The Elder Scrolls: Dovahkiin's Call
by Eodem
Summary: -The High King of Skyrim has been killed and the return of dragons foretells the end to all of Tamriel. The Dragonborn must rise amidst the chaos of a civil war to come out on top and defeat The World Eater; Alduin- This is a novelization of the story using multiple characters to craft a proper flow of events. I'm just looking for honest feedback and criticism to improve.
1. Chapter 1: Meeting of Fate

Einar

The night air of Skyrim was warm around Eastmarch's hot springs. The clear skies displayed Tamriel's two beautiful moons, the large red Massar and small white Secunda, both showing off lovely crescent shapes. Plenty of animals roamed around these woods making it a good hunting spot so long as the Stormcloaks weren't making too much noise passing by. Einar sought shelter for the night after a long day of hunting that led him far away from his cabin. His muscles showcased a dedication to fighting that fit snug in his hide armor, iron boots and gauntlets. His dirty blonde hair fell to his shoulders, two enrapturing eyes of blue peered forward, always filled with determination, the air around him radiated heroism. He was a true Nord, a race that made up the majority of Skyrim's population. Upon his back were the carcasses of rabbits and a deer slung over and tied. He was out all day collecting any game he could find as the meat sold good near his cabin nestled between the Capital of Eastmarch; Windhelm, and Kynesgrove where the Braidwood Inn was. He was far from the Inn and he wasn't about to try his luck walking that distance at night, Giants were too often seen on these roads and people told stories of a Hagraven that nested in Witchmist Grove. He felt it'd be better to set up camp at a nearby mining settlement called Darkwater Crossing, he could get some rest until sunrise and he knew the people there well.

The Settlement wasn't anything to tell tales about. A bridge connected the place to the only road in and out, one large house sat in front of the mines entrance where the Nordic couple Verner Rock-Chucker and Anekke Crag-Jumper lived. They gave shelter to any of the fellow miners and celebrated for the holidays inside, the residents would mostly sit around the campfire by the river at night. Stormcloaks frequently watched over these parts so it was safe from wild animals and bandits, but that came at the cost of horses trotting and men shouting during the night hours. Einar sat by the campfire which was surrounded by tents of the miners. They greeted him by name and he kindly greeted back while taking off his iron armor pieces before setting up a tent of his own. Einar met eyes with a young woman he didn't recognize, she averted her gaze toward the ground when she realized he was staring at her. She was hunched over and shivering underneath the blanket of her bed roll. She didn't look like a miner-type. Judging by how ragged her clothes were his best guess was that she was a drifter. Einar listened in on the conversation they were having with the woman.

"So you're an adventurer then?" Anekke asked. "You and Einar here may share something in common, he once helped Darkeethus after he decided to go swimming too close to a Falmer infested cave."

"I won't be going up anymore waterfalls again either." The leathery skinned Argonian, Darkeethus, chuckled.

"She's probably more like our daughter; Sylgja." Anekke's husband, Verner said. "You can't just assume every adventurer is out to throw their lives away for just any fool."

"You're probably right." Anekke replied. "Your clothes look really beaten and worn. I can tell they looked pretty at one point. You must have been out here for a while, you look dustier than us miners."

"I'm actually not from Skyrim." The girl finally spoke.

She was a small Imperial probably barely out of her teens, Her eyebrows showed a strong sense of worry that her large silver eyes complimented. Just from looking at her Einar could tell this girl was going through a rough time. She had large bags under her eyes and matted dark brown hair hung in knots over her face. She appeared as though she hadn't seen a bath in ages. It was obvious that the dagger she was carrying was used to cut the length of her hair near her chin. She wore a torn up green dress, and an Amulet of Kynareth, one of the Nine Divines, around her neck. The only true piece of protection she had were a pair of heavily worn leather boots.

"Where do you come from?" Einar asked, finally relaxing himself on his bedroll.

The girl hesitated at first like she had forgotten. "I'm from Cyrodiil." She said.

"You got a name?" Einar asked.

"Tacita." She muttered out, "Tacita Oriana." her grip tightened on her blanket.

"That's a pretty name!" A young Nord girl named Hrefna said.

"And what are you still doing awake, child?" Hrefna's mother, Tormir said.

Hrefna lied back down and pretended to be asleep.

Tormir turned her attention back to Tacita "All that dirt on your face, you look like you haven't taken a days rest since crossing the border."

Tacita didn't respond.

"I don't know how you crossed over the mountains without freezing to death." Einar said. "Only life up there are wolves and wraiths. But either way, Skyrim isn't like Cyrodiil, you'll want to put some iron on at least your arms. The wilds up here are a lot harsher than they are in Cyrodiil, a sabrecat would tear right through that leather."

A rustle in the bushes made Tacita jump, Einar made himself wary of her disposition. Her actions were off putting, especially by the way she responded to questions and her outward nervousness. _This girl might be involved in some heavy crime_, he thought to himself.

"I'm sure we have some equipment here that we could give you for the road." A Dark Elf named Sondis said.

Sondis trailed on about how dangerous Skyrim could be, Einar noticed Anneke's focus was toward the road. He followed her eyes to see she was watching a group of men garbed in sashes, quilted leather cuirasses and chain mail. While this was a common armor of Hold guards, these men were more than that. They wore blue sashes not solely to represent Windhelm, but also for a rebellious cause that had them dubbed The Stormcloaks. They arrived on horseback with their leader Ulfric Stormcloak, the very man that the Stormcloaks got their names from. He was tall Nord, green eyes, blonde hair, and a neatly kept goatee. His skin was pale from Windhelm's freezing weather conditions. Unlike his blue clad Stormcloak army, Ulfric wore dark neutral colors, fitted with a heavy fur trimmed coat that covered his plated armor, steel bracers, and shin guards. Many would argue he's what every Nord should strive to be but Einar saw him differently.

Ulfric began the Storrmcloak rebellion twenty-five years ago, 4E 176, as a way to fight back against The Thalmor. The Thalmor were mostly made up of High Elves that ruthlessly pushed to rule out one of the most renown of the Nine Divines; Talos. He was said to have been a man named Tiber Septim who in the Second Era became the one who unified Cyrodiil, then Tamriel, and later became a God. The Thalmor saw his lineage as an affront to the original Eight Divines and had taken the initiative in outlawing Talos worship all across Tamriel. Emperor Titus Mede II of Cyrodiil was forced to sign a peace treaty called the White Gold Concordat, which greatly favored The Thalmor. The treaty could have been avoided if The Thalmor didn't take advantage of an attack two hundred years ago in the Third Era dubbed the Oblivion Crisis that spanned across all of Tamriel. Led by the Daedric Prince Mehrunes Dagon, assisted by a now forgotten cult called the Mythic Dawn, Dagon was successfully able enter the mortal realm. He was eventually defeated by Cyrodiil's Champion; Nero Stasius and Martin Septim, who risked his own life. The event not only ended the Septim bloodline as Dagon wanted, but also left Cyrodiil and its army in shambles making them an easy target throughout the years.

During the Great War with the Thalmor, The Emperor was left with the choice to surrender, or have his Kingdom felled. This so called peace treaty allowed The Thalmor to push their anti-Talos laws across all of Tamriel. This enabled the massacres of organizations such as The Blades that used to protect the Septim Bloodline of Emperors. Ulfric's cause was noble, but his past deeds and practices were highly questionable, especially when it came to races outside of the Nords. A Hold Jarl's arrival would be welcoming, however Skyrim was in the midst of a civil war, the Stormcloaks and the Imperial Army which were sent to Skyrim to back up The Thalmor and put an end to the rebellion. To see Ulfric here so far from Windhelm didn't sit well with Einar. He slipped back on his iron in response to the tightness in his chest.

"What's going on?" Tacita asked.

Einar got up and called out to them. "Is everything alright Jarl Ulfric?"

Ulfric put up his hand to stop his men "We seek shelter, nothing more." He answered.

"We don't have room for all of your men here, my Jarl." Verner objected as kindly as he could.

"We don't plan to stay for long, we only need rest for a moment." Ulfric removed himself from his horse and his men followed.

When the last man touched the dirt the quiet camp changed in tone to the eruption of heavy footsteps. It was an imperial ambush, they came from behind the bushes, the trees, and the rocks. The imperials weren't wearing their bulky plate armor this night, only studded leather. The stormcloaks all readied their weapons. Anekke led the miners inside her house. Einar stood up, and though he didn't agree with the carnage that came with a civil war, he believed in the God Talos and protecting his home. He drew his blade, then chaos erupted to the sound of hammers hitting flesh, swords clashing, and shouting that filled the once peaceful night.

Einar was able to hold his own with just his steel blade, but the Stormcloaks weren't fairing well against the imperials. The ambush quickly turned into a bloodbath. It had never been this hard for a group of Imperials to be taken down, Cyrodiil wasn't sending their best warriors in, which was their way of rebelling against The Thalmor. This group was different, better trained, better tactics, they were overpowering the Stormcloaks. If the fight kept up, everyone would find their end.

"Enough!" Ulfric shouted out causing both sides to stop fighting. "If you want us, we will come. Only a fool would continue to fight a losing battle."

Horses and carriages came circling around the camp after Ulfric called his surrender. _Just how many imperials were here?_ Einar wondered. The imperials started to bind those on the field, even Tacita, who was only cowering away from the fighting, was put in custody. A war hardened man slowly trotted through the soldiers surrounding the camp and got off his horse before calmly walking up to Ulfric who was now bound and gagged. He wore eccentric leather armor baring the Imperial Insignia of a dragon, his stern face and short grey hair fit him well.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked staring face to face with Ulfric.

Ulfric had no response.

"I'm General Tullius. I've been sent by Emperor Titus Mede II to quell the rebellion here."

Several more Imperials came out of the woods.

"We found these two sneaking around the camp." One of them said. "Can't tell if they're Stormcloaks or thieves, sir."

They'd captured a Khajiit with white fur, and a woman wearing a mask.

"Tie them up and throw them into a carriage too." General Tullius said.

"What about the people in the house, sir?" An imperial asked.

"We'll leave them for The Thalmor." General Tullius replied. "We've got no more time to waste. Knock em out and let's get moving, I don't want any of them resisting their fates."

He hopped onto his horse and trotted away. The Imperials began using the force General Tullius commanded.. Stormcloaks began dropping faster than Einar could think, his face met the blunt end of a sword.


	2. Chapter 2: When Worlds Collide

Einar

When Einar came to his vision was blurred. His eyes attempted to adjust to the light of day. He heard horses trotting, and felt the carriage vibrating underneath him, the wind blew through his hair. He was staring at the back of an imperial soldier and heading downhill, he couldn't tell where to. There were Stormcloaks in the carriage behind him, ahead of him, and General Tullius was far up front.

Einar looked around to acquaint himself with his fellow prisoners. A Stormcloak with long blonde hair and a large nose sat across from him, Ulfric sat by the carriage exit, and a brown haired Nord in rags was across from him. Next to Einar was the masked woman the imperials had caught. Her body was encased in a black belted trench coat with the boots and fingerless gloves to match as though she were hiding from the sun. her black shoulder-length hair was well taken care of. She glanced at Einar and he quickly looked away. Her eyes stayed in his head, glowing red like an insatiable hunger resided in them.

Across from her was the Khajiit who looked very relaxed in his black robe given the situation. His fur and slit eyes were white as the snow, save for the black stripes that lined the top of his head. No hair nor beard was styled, only fur that hid scars underneath. An eyepatch covered his left eye, two long teeth protrude from his mouth much longer than any Khajiit Einar had seen. The Khajiit gave a sly grin to Einar. Next to him was Tacita her mouth tied, eyes covered, and her arms and legs sprung up together by steel chains, She was bound more than the rest.

"Hey you." The Blonde across from Einar said. "You're finally awake, we got caught up in a mess back there, eh?"

Einar nodded and leaned back in the carriage. Heavy fog with an overcast, the scent of the icey morning dew flaked his nostrils.

"We walked right into that ambush, that thief over there was picked up a little while ago trying to steal a horse." The Blonde positioned his bound wrist so he could point to the man sitting next to Tacita.

The Thief did a double take as if he was in disbelief someone was talking to him. "Damn you Stormcloaks," He cursed. "Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now." He looked at Einar. "You there... you and me, we shouldn't be here it's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

"Were all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." The Blonde said.

"You're a whiny character." The Red Eyed Woman said. "Shouldn't Nords head to their deaths with pride?"

"I'm not even supposed to be-" The Thief started to raise his voice making the carriage driver turn around and tell him to be quiet. The Thief dropped to a whisper, "I'm starting to think all of you people belong here."

The Red Eyed Woman rolled her eyes at the hypocrisy of his words.

"And what's wrong with him huh?" The Thief nodded his head toward Ulfric who continued staring at the passing road.

"Watch your tongue!" The Blonde demanded. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

The Thief's head jerked back after he heard this. "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you..." He pushed his head between his knees. "Oh Gods, where are they taking us?"

The Khajiit smiled at The Thief's anguish. "Death beckons the fearing, and the fearless. A Khajiit such as Jy'ma prefers to leave this world with a smile."

"No this can't be happening, this isn't happening!" The Thief cried.

"Hey, what village are you from horse thief?" The Blonde politely asked.

The Theif looked up and clasped his hands. "Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

"Rorikstead, I'm..from Rorikstead."

The Thief went silent and seemed to be praying to himself.

"It would seem we still have time before our exit of this world." Jy'ma said.

"Why is that girl chained up?" Einar finally spoke, motinoing his bounded hands toward Tacita.

"This one had a wanted poster, she was constrained as much as they could. She did not even resist." Jy'ma said "The imperials say she illegally crossed the border after she murdered her family. Mother, father and brother. The hunger of a natural killer."

He moved over to smell Tacita. She flinched hard and froze. Jy'ma placed his chin on her shoulder, his long teeth rubbed against her skin.

"This one reeks of dog. A very dirty dog. Jy'ma would not recommend intimacy with animals."

Tacita began shaking, the chains rattled to her pulsation.

"Enough cat, you don't need to scare her anymore than she is." The Red Eyed Woman said.

Jy'ma gave a grin back at her. "A familiar presence from this one. Like me, the air around the girl is cold. Dare I say sinister?" Jy'ma leaned toward her. "This one's eyes, how unnatural. This mask, those eyes. I know you-Myrna Etoile."

Myrna continued glaring at him.

Jy'ma relaxed back into his seat. "You are planning an escape already I bet. A Bloodline like yours, too royal for the chains." He let out a loud laugh. "We are quite the band of criminals are we not? Two vampires, a smelly dog lady, Stormcloaks, a usurper, a thief, and a common man!"

_Jy'ma belonged on this carriage more than anyone,_ Einar thought.

"General Tullius, sir!" An imperial shouted from ahead. Everybody in the carriage looked up to see the gates of a town overrun by imperials. "The headsman is waiting!"

As the gates opened General Tullius' voice was heard telling his men to hurry up.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me!" The Thief whined and started acting erratically as they passed under the village gates.

Two High Elf women dressed in gold trimmed black robes with their guards were waiting inside the entrance at their horses. General Tullius parked his horse in front of them. As the carriage entered the town, it slowed to almost a halt.

"Look at him, General Tullius, the Military governor." The Blonde said. "And The Thalmor are with him. Damn elves, I bet they had something to do with this."

Einar could faintly hear them speaking over The Blonde who explained they were at a small village called Helgen.

Einar's gaze at the High Elves was interrupted by Jy'ma's voice. "Elenwen is the taller one," He said. "and the ever so slightly shorter one is quite a sight-even for those who are not fond of the golden elves. Her name is Vallinya. Jy'ma can hear them arguing, it would seem The Thalmor want custody of us, but the General wants our heads. Either way, we are food for the dirt."

"Thalmor bitch." The Blonde cursed before putting a concerned look on. "Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

Einar heard a young boy speaking to his father behind them before telling the child to go inside, the boy protested at first but obeyed. Probably for the best. The carriages moved a bit further into the village until Imperials signaled for their horses to stop near the rest of the carriages that had arrived first. Rain poured down on the crowd as the Imperials gathered in front of the halted carriages. Freezing cold drops splashed from one body to the next.

The sound of metal boots rustled through the forming mud and a woman wearing steel plated Imperial Captain Armor started shouting orders. "Get those prisoners out of the carts, move it!"

"Why are we stopping?" The Thief exclaimed.

"Why do you think? End of the road." The Blonde replied.

"Try not to do anything stupid." Myrna's annoyed voice left her as she stood up.

"Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" The Thief pleaded.

"A Nord should feel honored for a chance at Sovngarde." Jy'ma jested before kindly helping Tacita to her feet.

"You've got to tell them we weren't with you this is a mistake!"

The prisoners all exited the carriage The Thief's pleas fell on deaf ears while the rest scrambled to keep together.

"Step forward when we choose you, and state your name." The Captain barked.

"Empire loves their damn lists." The Blonde grunted.

A young Nordic man with medium length brown hair and dopey eyes stood by The Captain, a quill and book in his hands. Though he had a decent amount of muscle, he didn't seem like he had seen many battles. A few men like the list holder were lined by the other carriages awaiting The Captain's next order.

"First in line!" The Captain shouted as she paced up and down the line of Stormcloaks.

Ulfric stepped forward as one of the first volunteers from Einar's carriage.

"Ulfric Stormcloak," The List Holder said squeamishly. "Jarl of Windhelm. Guilty of murder and high treason. Sentenced to death."

Ulfric gracefully walked over to Helgen's square with a crowd of his men who had already been called.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." The Blonde lamented.

"Next Prisoner." The List Holder called.

The Blonde turned to Einar and smiled before stepping forward. "Ralof, proud son of Skyrim." He heartily said, then swiftly walked to join the others.

"Stormcloak..sentenced to death. Next."

The Thief hurried up to the List Holder. "Lokir, and I'm not a Stormcloack."

"You're in the carriage with Stormcloaks—so you're a Stormcloak." The Captain said.

Lokir glanced to the left and right then turned to Einar and gave him the saddest look he'd ever seen on a grown man. Without a second thought he darted up the road yelling, "I only stole a horse! I'm not a rebel!"

"Halt!" The Captain shouted.

"You can't do this!"

The captain shook her head and raised her arm. "Archers!"

When her words rung through the air, several imperials raised their bows toward Lokir, followed by a shower of arrows that all successfully hit his body. Lokir slid face first into the mud, dead.

The Captain turned back to the prisoners straight faced. "Anyone else feel like running?"

After no response The List Holder continued. Einar was next. He walked toward The List Holder, his chest pounded with each breath.

"Name?" The List Holder requested.

Einar was so distracted by his heartbeat he forgot to say his name. "Einar." he choked out.

"Stormcloak, sentenced to death." The List Holder said.

Einar walked past The Captain and The List Holder to stand by Ralof and Ulfric he knew he'd be charged as a Stormcloak, but even so he felt he was right in defending them.

After what seemed like forever everybody's name had been called, Tacita was walked toward the Stormcloaks by The Captain. A hulking Headsman overlooked the Stormcloaks by the chopping block. He stood at least three heads taller than everybody else, a leathery black hood shielded his face, chainmail over a black sleeveless tunic that fell past his fur greaves. His axe was larger than even him. A Priestess in brown hooded robes stood calmly by the Headsman, with a holy book in her arms.

Before the heads could start rolling, General Tullius walked over to Ulfric one last time. Their rain soaked faces were inches from each other. "Ulfric Stormcloak, Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like _The Voice_ to murder his king and usurp his throne."

Ulfric futilely tried to mumble through his gag.

"You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace!"

As General Tullius turned away a screeching noise split the air.

"What was that?" The List Holder asked.

Tullius's eyes shift around the sky. "It's nothing. Carry on."

"Yes, General Tullius." The Captain said. She turned to face the Priestess. "Give them their rights."

The priestess raises her arms to the sky and begins her speech "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, bless-"

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with." a Stormcloak cut her off and rushed to the chopping block. He knelt himself down to the wood. "Come on, I haven't got all morning!"

The Headsman looks at the captain and she shrugs. He lifted his axe high in the sky

"My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials! Can you say the same?"

The headsman let's his axe drop clean onto the man's neck blood squirts from out of the slimy hole where his head used to hang.

A few people winced and gasped at the brutality. The captain kicked his body off the block, one of The Stormcloaks shouted at the imperials. The watchers in Helgen shouted profanities and death wishes to The Stormcloaks in return.

"As fearless in death as he was in life." Ralof said amidst the chaos of shouting villagers.

The Captain scoured over the crowd of Stormcloaks. "Next!" She pointed to Jy'ma. "The cat!"

The same screech from before echoed throughout the sky once more. Einar felt the ground rumble beneath him a bit, whatever it was it was getting closer. He never heard any animal sound like that, but his hunter instincts let him know it was massive.

"There it is again. Did you hear that?" The List Holder said.

"I said next prisoner." The Captain said.

"To the block prisoner. Nice and easy." The List Holder said

Jy'ma strutted over to the block. "Do make the cut straight for me, would you?" he morbidly jested.

The Captain, clearly annoyed, forced Jy'ma to his knees and held him down by her foot. Lightning flashed through the sky behind a mountain. For a moment Einar caught a glimpse of what looked to be the outline of a winged animal. The Headsman raised his axe to remove Jy'ma's head but halted to the sound of an ear scraping roar that harassed everyone's ears. A horrific winged beast arrived and circling overhead, the storm made it impossible to tell just what it was.

"What in _Oblivion_ is that!?" General Tullius yelled.

"Sentries, what do you see?" The Captain asked.

The beast crashed onto the nearest tower nearly toppling it as it sways to the weight, knocking debris to the crowd below. The ground shook from how heavy it was, The Headsman even fell over almost killing himself with his own axe. An enormous lizard-like beast, with beady red eyes, fully coated in black scales, two legs and oversized bat wings for arms perched on top of Helgen's tower. It stared directly at Einar, time itself felt like it had completely stopped. His trance was broken by the citizens erupting into wails of terror.

"By the Gods, It's a Dragon!" The List Holder shouted.

The dragon opened its mouth to unleash a powerful roar, the clouds circled the sky creating a cyclone sending the rain upwards, the world grew darker while the dragon's intense eyes grew brighter. Meteors spawned through the clouds, the massive fireballs lit the skies and pummeled Helgen. The emotions from the villagers caused even more pandemonium; panic, crying, praying and screaming for their lives tripping over each other as they tried to find shelter. Einar watched as a meteor fell directly on top of the headsman, the impact was powerful enough to push Jy'ma away from the chopping block.

"Don't just stand there, kill that thing!" General Tullius barked. "Guards get the townspeople to safety!"

At this moment whether Stormcloak or Imperial, the Civil War was forgotten, and the soldiers became one large team. Einar ripped off the wraps around Tacita's eyes and mouth then pulled at her to follow him. She kept up as best she could, her chains rattled with every step. Ralof beckoned everybody into a nearby tower away from the dragon. Fire bursted from its mouth scorching Helgen's buildings. Ralof was able to get Jy'ma to his feet and bring him inside with the rest. Einar hurried Tacita along, the two made it into the tower before the Dragon could make another round to the square. Some Stormcloaks had broken limbs from being hit by the meteors and were clutching at their wounds in the safety of the tower. Einar was able to catch his breath, Jy'ma went around cutting the binds off the prisoners with his claws.

"You are lucky for one such as me to be helping you, though if your legs are broken I cannot do much." Jy'ma said as he cut Einar's hands free.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" Ralof questioned.

"Legends don't burn down villages." Ulfric said.

Ralof looks around the tower seeing his comrades heavily wounded. "What about the rest?"

"They're hurt, but they'll live." a Stormcloaks says reassuring Ralof. "Another second out there with the dragon, and they'd be dead..."

Ralof looked to Einar and they both agreed to head upstairs. Tacita, Jy'ma, and a few other Stormcloaks followed. The Stormcloaks were quicker than the three and quickly climbed the flight of stairs, they were stopped by the rubble that had fallen and attempted to remove it. Just before Einar geached the top of the first flight, the Dragon smashed its head through the tower, the debris from the broken wall crushed the few Stormcloaks. The dragon attempts to breath fire on Einar, but he moved out of the way, the flames engulfed the corpses of the Stormcloaks instead and the dragon flew off.

Ralof headed up to the freshly made hole in the tower, after confirming the dragon was gone he waved for Einar and the others to follow.

"See the Inn on the other side?" Ralof pointed at a building that was left mangled by the dragon's attacks. "Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We'll follow when we can!" Ralof turned his attention to order the second wave of Stormcloaks back downstairs.

Jy'ma leapt through without hesitation, Tacita stopped to assess the distance of the jump. The Dragon appeared once more and was making a run directly for them. Einar grabbed hold of Tacita and forced them both over the edge as the dragon's fire spewed toward the tower. They barrelled through the hay of the roof and crashed through wooden beams before slamming onto the floorboard. The adrenaline of the chase allowed Einar to get back on his feet, he helped Tacita up and led her to a broken chunk of floor giving them access downstairs and to the back exit of the Inn.

after making it onto the streets. The List Holder was with a crowd of people directing them away from the dragon. A boy was out in the open with what must have been his father lying on the ground bleeding and begging his son to run along with the few other villagers. The boy barely made it over before the dragon landed next to his father. Before the man could even speak, the dragon burned him alive, and he was lost to shouts of anguish.

"Torolf!" The List Holder shouted and rushed toward the child to carry him to safety, "Gods... everyone get back!"

The dragon flew overhead, Einar and Tacita shuffled over by the other villagers, but there was barely any cover under the house for all of them.

The List Holder looked at the two. "Still alive, prisoners? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way. Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join their defense."

Einar beckoned Tacita and continued to help her along.

"Gods guide you Hadvar," the old Nord Gunnar said.

The three neared a wall and Hadvar spotted the dragon "Stay close to the wall!" he yelped as he pushed the two against it.

They ducked down as the Dragon swept overhead. It's wings swatted the embers toward the ground as it descended onto the wall. The dragon's wing obscured Einar's view, its talon was larger than a dagger and only inches from his face. Some imperials soldiers tried to assist but the dragon spewed fire onto them before it took to the sky again. The three moved through a few burnt down buildings creating a shortcut to the city gates where a league of imperials aimed upward trying to shoot the dragon, a few of them were already on the ground, burning or dead.

"On me prisoners, stay close!" Hadvar said.

The Dragon soared close to the ground and grabbed an imperial soldier taking them up with it before they were flung even higher. The Imperial helplessly screamed before his body splattered onto the gravel road. Hadvar rushed over to The Keep of Helgen and waved Einar over. He grabbed Tacita and pressed on until Ralof appeared from out of a burning building.

"Ralof! You damn traitor. Out of my way!" Hadvar shouted.

Einar pulled Tacita over to Ralof since he trusted him more than Hadvar, who was willing to send them to the chopping block, Stormcloak or not.

"We're escaping Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time!" Ralof shouted.

"Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!" Hadvar shouted as he rushed off to join the Imperials in combat further in the town.

Ralof moved toward The Keep and called out to Einar and Tacita to move inside. Underneath the protection of the keep the dragon's wails continued to echo through the halls. _The keep may be reinforced, but how strong must it be to hold off a dragon?_ Einar pondered.

The place was dark and damp, little light came off of the candles hanging from the cracked walls. Large chunks from the support beams were broken off, but Einar couldn't decipher if the dragon caused the breaks, or if it was just poor structure of the keep. Jy'ma and Ufric were hovering over the dead bodies of a Stormcloak and two Imperials.

Jy'ma turned toward the three, "Sorry, your friend did not make it." He knelt down with the corpses. "Though I am not one for the brutal nature of the axe, it shall do." Jy'ma pulled out an axe lodged in the neck of an Imperial and wiped off the blood.

Ulfric panned around the room with a disappointed scowl. "This is it eh? Nobody else made it?"

"No my Jarl," Ralof said. "At least not this way. That thing was a dragon, no doubt. Just like the children's stories and the legends. The harbingers of the End Times."

"No time to think of that now. Let's get the girl unshackled." Ulfric said. "We'll all need to work together to get out alive."

Ralof moved toward Tacita and grabbed at her chains. He turned to J'yma and focused on his weapon. "An axe would be perfect to break these." Ralof gently pushed Tacita to a kneel. "Lay your chains as close to the ground as you can. Lend me that axe, Khajiit."

Jy'ma handed his weapon to Ralof and he steadied it upon Tacita's chains making a few slow strokes to make sure his aim was on point. Ready to swing, he raised the axe and struck, Tacita let out a whimper, the chains rattled and bounced from the impact, but it was not enough force to break through. "One more time, hold steady!" Ralof said as he lifted the axe up again. With all of the strength he could muster, he slammed down on the metal and snapped the chains apart like firewood.

Tacita shook from the fear of an axe chopping near her arms, but seemed relieved to able to freely move again.

Ralof smiled and tossed the Axe back to Jy'ma. "The chains will drag, but it's safer than having us pull you along."

"Myrna was here, but she has moved on ahead." Jy'ma said. "I feel our path shall be very clear with her in front."

"Find yourself some weapons, the Gods help those who help themselves after all." Ulfric said.

Einar rummaged through the bodies of the imperials and picked out two Imperial made blades. He handed one to Tacita. "If we want to get out alive, we'll have to watch each other's backs." He said. She accepted the sword, though awkwardly wielded it.

The party started off down the hallway to a flight of stairs, a rumbling noise reverberated from above and the keep vibrated.

"Come on, let's get out of here before the dragon brings the tower down on our heads!" Ralof shouted, urging the party to hurry.

Another corridor was met, but before they can head through, the roof came caving in and blocked them off.

Ralof scratched his head. "Damn, that dragon doesn't give up easy."

Tacita opened the only door that led into a room, she froze in place when she entered. Einar looked past her to see the place littered with burns on the walls and imperials either maimed or turned to piles of ash.

"Did the fires of the dragon make it into here as well?" Ralof questioned.

Jy'ma laughed at this comment. "A dragon is the least of one's problems while in the keep. This is surely the work of Myrna. It seems her reputation is truth. Jy'ma would not like to be the one she harbors ill intent against."

"We are lucky she is on the side of The Stormcloaks then." Ulfric said.

Jy'ma snickered. "She is on the side that benefits her, not all of these ashes belong to Imperials."

"Well, if there was anything we could take around here it's all destroyed now." Ralof said.

The keep shook and another cave in was heard elsewhere.

"We need to find our way out of here." Uflric commanded "This dragon is determined to have this tower down by the sound of it."

Ralof found a door that conveniently led them to the opposite side of the cave-in and the group pressed on through The Keep. They eventually reached a room that had been heavily burnt, with cages for prisoners bent and the armory destroyed. It met the same fate as the room before, with ashes sprawled everywhere.

"Troll's blood, it's a torture room!" Ralof said.

Einar heard what sounded like a man crying. He checked the area of the noise to find one Stormcloak was spared, whimpering behind a weapons supply.

Ralof knelt by the man. "Are you alright brother?"

"No, no that woman.. she's a monster." the Stormcloak bawled. "I don't know what's worse, the dragon or her. I only survived by hiding here!"

"I don't think she meant to attack the Stormcloaks, though they may have got in her way."

The Stormcloak peaked his head over the counter.

Ulfric pulled at the man. "On your feet soldier, this fight isn't over yet."

"What if that woman is still out there?" The Stormcloak said.

"Trust me, she is one of us."

The man struggled to find his strength and ultimately refused to join the group.

"Nothing we can do. This man's lost his way." Ulfric said.

The group headed out of the torture room without the Stormcloak. They past a hallway of prisons, where the cages had broken from the dragon's constant rampage, or Myrna's magic, whichever got to it first. It was uncertain if the prisoners all got out, died, or if they had occupants at all. Further down were cages that hung from the roof which encased the skeletons of long forgotten prisoners. They came upon a broken wall of The Keep that connected to a cave system. Einar heard the voices of men further down.

"We need to wait until General Tullius arrives."

"I'm not waiting to be killed by a dragon, we need to fall back!" Another voice called back.

"Just give the General some time!"

The argument persisted.

Sparks of light flickered through the shadows accompanied by a staticky noise.

"What was that?" A voice shouted.

A powerful burst of thunder boomed through the corridors, cracking noises replaced the sounds of an argument. When the group did reach where the voices were coming from, Myrna was walking past the still smoldering bodies. She must have heard the group moving toward her as she threw her hand up at them, but lowered it when she realized who they were.

Jy'ma clapped his hands. "So nice to see a legend among vampires stay true to the stories."

"I don't have time to be caught up in Civil Wars I don't care for," Myrna said. "If anybody else tries to interrupt me from finding my friend I won't be as gentle." Myrna turned to the group "That includes you all as well, there are worse things than death where I am from."

Myrna made everyone go quiet. Einar could feel the energy she radiated was on a whole other league. Einar had never seen such eyes on a vampire before, judging by how powerful she was he deduced that she may have even been born a few eras ago.

"That dragon is still out there, we should keep moving." Ralof said, breaking the silence.

They continue into the cave reaching a drawbridge with the sound of rushing water on the other side, they puledl the lever to lower the bridge, and ran acros. After Tacita passed another cave-in occurred nearly landing on top of her. The drawbridge was completely mangled underneath a rock, Ulfric was separated from the group.

"Keep moving, I'll find a way out!" Ulfric yelled through a small crack above the boulders.

"We can get you out of there, Jarl Ulfric!" Ralof shouted.

"There's no time, keep moving, I'll see you back in Windhelm! I don't plan on dying here!"

Ulfric's footsteps trailed off and the party was left without their leader, though If any Imperials came looking for them they'd be stopped by the rocks making them safe for now.

"May Talos shield you from all harm, my Jarl." Ralof said.

Einar took notice of the stream of water nearby.. "That water probably leads out of the cave, it's our best bet at the moment since there's no other way back."

"Where the water flows, so shall we." Jy'ma said.

They reach a large open space in the cave filled by giant spider nests. Myrna halted the party and moved one hand toward the center of the nest. A large area of fire spread from her palm to the webbing and set the entire nest ablaze, the screeching of spiders howled throughout the cave. The group passed closely behind Myrna in a line through the burning nest. They continued on until they could feel a cold breeze, the river flowed opposite of the wind, they continue following where the cold air entered until they passed through to the open wilds of Skyrim once more.

The relief from the party as they could once again see the sun. A loud roar startled them, they got down and let the dragon pass off into the mountains.

"Looks like he's gone for good." Ralof said.

"What a chance happening we have encountered in there." Jy'ma joked. He paced around for a moment and breathed in the fresh air. "Well, as much as this one would enjoy staying with you all, this is where we must part ways." He looked back and gave one last smirk before he headed off into the nearby woods.

"I've got somewhere to be as well." Myrna said. She mumbled something to herself as she started northward.

Ralof, Tacita and Einar were the only three left, and they were finally free from the hell they'd just went through.

"You can follow me if you've got nowhere else to go. Riverwood is just a bit away." Ralof said.

The two accepted, aware they hadn't much else to lose.


	3. Chapter 3: Three Toed Discount

Einar

The rain fell continuously off and on. The three had been trotting through the muddy roads for a while. It was beginning to get dark out. walking in silence for hours, the sound of Tacita's dragging chains constantly rang in Einar's ears. She was shivering cold which made her walk slower than Einar and Ralof.

"You know," Ralof started to speak which made Einar happy to have something to drown out those rattling chains. "You should go to Windhelm and join the fight to free Skyrim. You've seen the true face of the Empire here today."

"I've never been one to partake in sides of conflict." Einar said.

"I don't think I want to go near anymore of the Empire." Tacita shook out.

"You wouldn't have to run from them with the Stormcloaks behind your back. You'd always have protection." Ralof continued to insist. "Listen, If anyone will know what the coming of the Dragons means, it's Ulfric." Ralof's conversation wasn't getting any positive responses, it was clear he realized this and chose to drop the topic. Eventually his eye caught a massive ruin in the distance, and he halted to point. "See that ruin up there?"

Tacita and Einar stopped to look.

Ralof's eyes shifted around the mountain. "Bleak Falls Barrow. I never understood how my sister could stand living in the shadow of that place."

"I guess you get used to it." Einar said.

Ralof looked back at him, nodded his head then started walking downhill. "My sister is a strong woman, but she doesn't understand the horrors of an ancient ruin. I often had nightmares of the Draugr coming down and creeping through my window at night."

Ralof's stories had dragged on for a while filling the silence, until the rain started pouring down and night had crept upon them. It was hard to see where they were going. Einar and Ralof kept slipping in the mud, Tacita seemed to have good eyes for the night as she was easily able to keep her balance and stay on track of the roads. Further down the hill a stone path formed which made it easier to traverse. Tacita spotted three upright stones shaped like thick fingers, each standing at roughly four meters. The stones were wrapped with iron bands, the middle being separated by a large hole. They were lined up together, on an old slab, weather worn and cracked in various places where vines protruded. The hill they overlooked led to a large lake that reflected the moons and tall trees that surrounded it. Further beyond the lake were mountains that stretched across the horizon creating Skyrim's natural border.

"What are those things?" Tacita asked.

Ralof raised his eyebrows at her as if he was surprised she didn't know. "These are the Guardian Stones, three of the thirteen ancient stones that dot Skyrim's landscape."

Tacita walked up to one of them and felt the designs etched into it. "There's people carved into the bottom of these." She said. Her fingers skimmed the lines that depicted a muscular man with a horned helmet, an axe in one hand and a shield in the other.

Ralof walked beside her. "They're based off the constellations, from the stars at night. I'm sure your family has shown you those before?"

Tacita's smile went away quickly and she reverted to her reserved state. Ralof was visibly ashamed of what he said. "I wasn't taught about the constellations." She said quietly.

"I see," Ralof scratched his head. "Well, I'll teach you these for now, and maybe another night we can go outside and see more." Ralof said with a smile.

Tacita attempted to smile back, but it could barely be considered one.

"That one there is The Warrior, beside that is The Mage, and the one far off to the left is The Thief." Ralof moved closer to the stones. "People of Skyrim come from all over to pray to the stone of their choice. A spirit of the stone is said to guide your life to fit whichever constellation you prayed to. It won't activate to just anybody though, and it isn't clear what they expect of people. That hole will light up and shoot to the sky if it accepts your prayer. Would you like to give it a go?"

"How would I do that?" Tacita asked.

"I can show you." Einar offered. He stepped up to The Warrior stone, knelt down, bowed his head and shuts his eyes. "Guardian stone, accept my prayer so that I may be blessed under your guiding light."

The stone chimed and a bright red ball of light formed in the center, the image of The Warrior brightened to lines linked by dots mimicking the constellation that would be in the sky. A calming hum rang out as a pillar of light shot into the heavens. Einar was shocked at the stone activating to him, as they'd never actually done that before.

"Wow, that's amazing!" Tacita exclaimed, her smile returned to her face. "I wonder if they like me too?"

She swiftly knelt by The Thief stone and bowed her head as Einar did. She let out the same chant before she hopped backwards hoping to watch the light form in the center. Just as quickly as it did for Einar, the stone was taken over by a bright green light before blasting off into the sky. "Yes! It lit up for me!" Tacita joyfully laughed out.

"Looks like the Nine have blessed both of you, it's no wonder we made it out of Helgen alive." Ralof said. He attempted to try his luck at one of the stones but it didn't even attempt to light up.

"Damn thing!" Ralof cursed making Tacita laugh at him.

Einar contemplated what Jy'ma had told him in the carriage. After witnessing how she acted, he found it near impossible to believe Tacita killed her family. He wouldn't dare ask her now, he knew there had to be a deeper story to whatever brought her to Skyrim. Her family's death might not have been her fault at all, if that even played a role.

"We should keep moving." Ralof said. "Hopefully we'll be back by supper. Remember, this isn't Stormcloak territory. If we're ahead of the news from Helgen we should be fine as long as we don't do anything stupid. If we run into any Imperials, just let me do the talking, all right?"

The three continued down the road. the faint sound of rushing water flowed into their ears, and the path narrowed down to a curve to follow the course of a river.

"We're close to the village," Ralof said. "that river flows all the way passed Whiterun and doubles through Windhelm, then Riften."

"Does Skyrim have those big man eating Slaughterfish too?" Tacita asked staring intently at the water.

"We do," Ralof said. "but there aren't any Slaughterfish in these waters though, mostly Salmon. Riverwood has always had fresh fish to eat."

Not too much after, torch lights were seen burning in the distance. Slowly, the small village of Riverwood appeared to them. The village was quiet, the torches served to light up the road, however, nobody was walking around on them. Not even a guard watched over the place. A decently made mossy wall greeted them as they entered, serving as the village gate and minor protection. The buildings themselves were well taken care of, a few houses were set up near the entrance complimented by a general store as the three walked passed under the mossy wall. an Inn for travelers stood at the opposite end of the village by a bathhouse near the bank of the river. A lumber mill sat atop a small isolated island inside the river behind a large house. The sound of the water rushing was relaxing, but Einar found it strange to see a village unprotected by at least a local warrior. It concerned him to think how the village would defend itself from an attack.

"Looks like nobody here knows what's happened yet." Ralof whispered. "Come on, if we're on time Gerdur should be awake." Ralof pushed through to the back of the village, leading them to a much larger and nicer house than the rest. It had its own farm and cattle sleeping out front getting soaked in the rain. They headed up to the door and Ralof gave a few knocks. They waited for an answer, but nobody came to the door.

"I hope they're still awake." Ralof said.

He gave another knock on the door and started to get antsy, he didn't want to shout in case the neighbors were asleep. He gave a few more knocks before finally giving up.

"Perhaps we should check in at the Inn for tonight?" He said.

Just as the trio went to leave they heard the door unlocking. It opened to a thick man with blonde hair and mustache that fell to his chin. He was held an axe as if he were expecting trouble.

"Hod?" Ralof said. "It's me, Ralof."

"Ralof! Oh thank Talos." Hod said, lowering his axe in relief.

"Brother!" A woman in the back shouted as she pushed Hod away to hug Ralof. "Mara's mercy it's good to see you!"

She was as tall as Ralof, had his same hair, and even his large nose. Einar couldn't tell if Ralof looked womanly or she looked manly. She backed off Ralof for a moment.

"But is it safe for you to be here?" She whispered.

"Gerdur.." Ralof tried to interrupt

"We heard Uflric had been captured."

"Gerdur."

"Won't the Imperials be looking for you?"

"Gerdur!"

"You're all beaten and bruised, what happened?"

"Gerdur! We're safe. At least now we are."

"Hurry, come inside before someone sees you."

Gerdur rushed the three of them into the house. The place was homely, stone walls, flooring, and roof of hay. The kitchen was directly in front of them, a chandelier hung over a well crafted fireplace, tables of cooking ingredients were pushed against the walls on either side. Candles in the shape of horns lined the banister of the fireplace. A large slaughterfish was mounted on the wall, its long snout was open displaying its full rows of sharp teeth. The floor was comforted by a fur rug, to the left was a dinner table with three chairs and the set like they just finished eating. A young boy who looked a lot like Gerdur came running from the table.

"Uncle Ralof!" The boy shouted.

"Look at you, almost a grown man! Won't be long before you're joining the fight yourself!" Ralof laughed.

Before the child could pester Ralof more, Gerdur cut in. "Frodnar. You need to be getting ready for bed."

"Aw, mama, I want to stay and talk to Uncle Ralof!" Frodnar whined.

"He'll be here when you wake up in the morning, now off with you."

Frodnar wistfully walked to a room on the right wing of the house.

"Come, sit by the fire and tell us what's going on." Gerdur said directing them to the table. "And who are these two, your comrades?"

The group piled around the table, Tacita warmed herself vigorously by the fire. A shaggy dog approached her from behind and whined as it nudged her legs, making her jump.

"Don't mind Stump dear, he's an old dog. He won't hurt you." Gerdur said as he pulled two chairs over.

Tacita moved away from the dog but it continued to pester her. Einar didn't find much comfort in the chairs Gerdur had, but it was better than walking outside any longer.

"Not comrades just yet," Ralof said. "I'd like to call them my friends. Tacita and Einar, if it weren't for them I'd be long dead by now."

"You all look really done in, what happened?" Hod asked.

"Well the news you heard about Ulfric was true." Ralof says "The Imperials ambushed us at Darkwater Crossing, like they knew exactly where we'd be. That was... two days ago now? We stopped in Helgen and I thought it was all over. Had us lined to the Headsman's block and ready to start chopping."

"The Cowards!" Gerdur said.

"They wouldn't dare give Ulfric a fair trial." Ralof continued. "Treason, and for fighting for your own people! All of Skyrim would have seen the truth then.. but then out of nowhere, a dragon attacked!"

Gerdur and Hod looked at each other in shock.

"You don't mean a real live.." Gerdur's voice trembled.

"I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there." Ralof said. "As strange as it sounds, we'd be dead if not for that dragon. In the confusion, we managed to slip away. Are we really the first to make it to Riverwood?"

Gerdur nodded. "Nobody else has come up the south road today, as far as I know."

"Good. Maybe we can lay up for a while. I hate to put your family in danger, Gerdur, but..."

"Nonsense. You and your friends are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. Let me worry about the Imperials. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine."

"Thanks, sister. I knew we could count on you."

"Did anyone else escape? Did Ulfric..."

"We traveled through an underground cave with him, but we were separated halfway through. I'm sure he made it out. It'll take more than a dragon to stop Ulfric Stormcloak."

"I bet so. The guest room is open for the three of you, there's only two beds so I hope one of you don't mind sleeping on a roll."

"It will be no problem. Rather the floor, than in another Imperial Carriage."

"Your friend here is chained up pretty good."

Gerdur grabbed Tacita's chains and rattled them. "Hod, do you think we have anything to get these shackles off her?"

"I'll check the sawmill for something." Hod said.

"Come on, I'll take you to the guest room." Ralof said. He pushed himself up and headed to a door nearby the table, Einar and Tacita follow behind. It was a tight cornered room with only two beds and a nightstand for each. A window divided the beds evenly, giving room plenty of space to walk around but no room for more furniture.

Ralof settled himself on the floor. "Hardwood won't be too different for me," Ralof said. "Sometimes my shield brothers would hide each others bedroll to make one of us sleep without covers. We'd call them milk drinkers and pranked them for weeks if they complained." He proceeded to struggle finding a good position to lay.

Tacita had already thrown herself in a bed and was staring out the window toward the moons. Einar took a moment to look out with her. The sound of the rain mixed with a pleasant view of the moons peaking through the clouds. The sight complimented the feel of relaxation presented to them.

"Full moons should be coming in the few days." Einar said.

Tacita continued looking out the window without a word, she was drifting in and out of sleep. Einar's eyes heavied, watching hers open and close. He was dreaming before he even realized.

In the morning Einar woke feeling amazingly rested, the sun was shining into the room, birds were chirping, People were heard outside having conversation, and children were playing. Tacita wasn't in her bed anymore, and Ralof wasn't on the floor. Einar got up and walked out of the guest room to find everyone having breakfast. They looked at him and smiled.

"You were sleeping like a babe! We didn't want to wake you from your beauty sleep." Ralof joked.

"We all went to the bathhouse early to avoid the people." Hod said.

Einar noticed that Tacita did appear cleaner, all the dirt had been washed away, and her hair was brushed to the side of her face which made it look even shorter. Her chains were off, but they left marks around her wrists from how tight they were. Now that she was cleaned up she looked even younger than she did previously, she was out of her dress and into something more fitting of a common villager. She still had the same look of worry on her face even though was simply eating breakfast.

"They're free to use. So long as you don't mind sharing the place with our local drunk, Embry. It's just across from the Inn." Gerdur said.

"I've shared baths with stranger men than drunks, it's no problem for me." Einar replied.

'Would you like to eat with us? I'm sure you're quite hungry." Gerdur offered.

"No thanks, I'll eat after I'm cleaned."

"We probably have some spare clothes you can use. Hod has been growing out a lot of them lately." she said, then glanced at Hod, who gave her a glare back.

Einar agreed and Hod headed to his bedroom, returning with an outfit. Einar wondered if it will even fit him at all, but didn't say anything. He thanked them and headed to the Bathhouse.

Walking the roads of Riverwood in the morning made the place immensely more beautiful than it was at night, the people were outside enjoying themselves made the place impressively compared to when the night was still fresh. When he neared the Inn it was quite busy with people inside and outside, the ambiance could be heard from miles around from how loud they got. There was a group gathered nearby an old woman. Einar stopped to take a listen.

"A dragon! I saw a dragon!" she shouted.

"What? What is it now, mother?" A young man cut through the crowd and asked.

"It was as big as the mountain, and black as night. It flew right over the barrow."

"Dragons now, is it? Please, mother. If you keep on like this everyone in town will think you're crazy. And we've got better things to do than listen to more of your fantasies."

"You'll see! It was a dragon! It'll kill us all and then you'll believe me!"

The crowd dispersed. Some were concerned of what she had said, while others failed to even consider the old woman's words. Einar not only knew the truth, he lived through it. He brushed the memory away and continued onto the Bathhouses. Once he entered the building, the temperature raised to the steam in the air. the baths were divided between men and women, there weren't any rooms-just divides by curtains. Large wooden tubs were filled with hot water and ready for anybody to get in. There were plenty of people inside, but Einar quickly found a spot to wash up. A drunk, man that had to be Embry was wandering around naked, and asking people if they had any change for a drink. It was such an odd place to be asking for something like that, and it made Einar chuckle. He walked out of the baths feeling refreshed. Ralof was waiting for him, when they locked eyes he waved Einar over.

"Hod's clothes fit you well enough, your muscles make up for his fat." Ralof jested. "I thought we could grab a drink at the Sleeping Giant, Tacita is at the Sawmill helping out Gerdur and Hod. it'll be just us."

Einar accepted his offer, and they walked into the nearby Inn.

The place had just enough people to make it lively. The inside was shaped like a rectangle, a long fire pit in the center of the room gave off heat to the inn. Bench tables lined the walls, filled up with guests. Rooms for patrons stretched along the walls and different animal heads decorated the open spaces on the walls. A bartender stood behind the counter at the end of the Inn surrounded by ingredients, ale, and dishes. Einar found the place much cleaner compared to the Braidwood Inn he frequented in Eastmarch. A bard played music to some of the patrons with his lute, though it didn't look like he's getting much attention. A group of four men garbed in leather and fur armor stood out from the rest. A Dark Elf seemed to be their leader, laughing about how much money they were going to make off an artifact that they had. Einar knew mercenaries as a double edged sword, they can get a job done, but the highest bidder decided their morals.

Ralof nudged Einar to follow him to the bar.

"What can I get for you two?" The Bartender asked, with a gruff voice. He was muscular for a bartender with a rough face and long black hair pulled back to keep it away from food.

"Two ales for my friend and me here, and whatever special is on the menu today." Ralof said.

"'Special' and two Ales, no problem." The Bartender said. He quickly passed them their drinks and turned to search for ingredients around the kitchen behind him.

"Orgnar." A woman from the right called. Fair skinned, a few heads shorter than Einar, a small face and golden hair put into a ponytail that revealed all of the grey hairs and wrinkles on her face, her blue eyes were made brighter by brown eyeshadow. "Orgnar! Are you listening?" She called again coming up to the bar.

"Hard not to." Orgnar replied while preparing the fish for Einar's meal.

"The Ale's going bad."

Again, Orgnar didn't answer.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yup, Ale's going bad."

"I guess you don't have potatoes stuck in your ears after all. Just make sure we get a new batch soon."

The woman returned to the room off to the right and shut the door. Orgnar continued cooking like nothing happened.

Einar and Ralof looked at eachother and proceeded to push away their drinks.

"You don't have to worry, your Ale's are good." Orgnar said. But the damage had been done.

"So, Einar. We haven't gotten to know each other much." Ralof said. "What brought you to Darkwater Crossing that night? You a miner?"

"No." Einar replied. "I made a living off selling meat and skins to the Braidwood Inn, in Kynesgrove. I hunted too far out that night and it was too late to walk back."

"Kynesgrove, eh?" Ralof said. "I've been there a few times with the Stormcloaks. It's supposed to be a sacred ground, for Kynareth. I don't know why somebody would set up a town there."

"Place was founded by two girls, Ganna and Gemma.." Einar began. "They're from Cyrodiil, like Tacita. They didn't even know that Kynesgrove was sacred ground. so when they built their sawmill they found out they couldn't use most of their land because of how close they were to the grove. After a while people came by to help settle a village there. Now those two work the mines trying to pay back their debt. I used to sit around and listen to them fight about how terrible their placement for the mill was."

Einar and Ralof shared a laugh.

"Look, I'm going to level with you." Ralof said. "I'll be leaving before night falls again for Windhelm. I have to check in to see if Ulfric made it back, and I've spent too long here already. You're from around there, we could make it a trip for two. If you want to come with that is, I wouldn't mind a traveling buddy."

"I'm not trying to get involved with the Stormcloaks, Ralof." Einar said.

"I understand that, war isn't for everybody after all. Even if you don't want to join the Stormcloaks, it's safer to travel with somebody you can trust."

Orgnar placed a meal in front of them. Einar's stomach growled just looking at it. Ralof slid the plate over to Einar. "I'll give you some time to think about it." Ralof placed a bag of gold on the countertop. "There's enough in here for our orders, I have to get packing. Do you mind picking up a few things from the trader for my sister?"

Einar accepted and Ralof passed him a list of things to buy before he headed out of the Inn. Einar began digging into the fish, he couldn't help but overhear the group of mercenaries talk about heading up the mountain to start up their biggest steal. They noisily got up and rough housed a bit before they made it out the door. Einar turned around and watched them leave.

"Yeah, I don't like the look of them either." Orgnar said as he washed a dish. "It's not uncommon for us to get rough looking mercenaries, but these guys remind me more of bandits than anything. They've been staying at the Inn for a couple days now. We've had a few complaints, but their money's good. So long as they don't try to start any fights I'll allow them to stay."

Einar turned back to Orgnar and took a drink of his Ale. It's definitely gone bad. "Thanks for the meal, how much am I paying?"

"Huh?" Orgnar grunted. "Truth be told, when your friend asked for a special I dunno what the heck he was talking about. So I just made whatever was laying around."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I'll just have you pay for the Ales."

Einar left enough gold for the two drinks. He pulled out the list Ralof gave him and headed out.

Einar looked over at the sawmill to see if Tacita was still there. She acquired a jacket to shield herself from the winds. She seemed to be enjoying herself, and made attempts to play with Stump and Frodnar, but the dog was clearly still bothering her. Einar got the impression that Riverwood might be a good place for her to settle down while he went back to Kynesgrove with Ralof. The girl had been through enough since coming over to Skyrim, a place like this was a perfect start. He headed into the Riverwood Trader. A small shop that the owners also lived in made evident by the stairs leading to the next floor. There was more hunted game inside than anything else that lined the walls and counter. Upon entering Einar found that he walked into an argument between a beautiful woman with long black hair, a Wood Elf with grey hair, and a middle aged man with a goatee.

"Well one of us has to do something!" The woman balled her fists as if she were ready to fight the middle aged man.

"I said no! No adventures, no theatrics, no thief-chasing!" The man retorted.

"Well what are you going to do then, huh? Let's hear it!" The woman placed her hands on her hips, the Elf in the back looked frightened.

"We are done talking about this!" The man shouted, banging his hand on the counter. he looked over to see Einar. "Oh, a customer. Sorry you had to hear that."

"Did something happen?" Einar asked.

"Yes, we did have a bit of a... break-in." The man said. "But we still have plenty to sell. Robbers were only after one thing. An ornament, solid gold. In the shape of a dragon's claw."

"I can help you get the claw back."

"You could? I've got some coin coming in from my last shipment. It's yours if you bring my claw back, my name's Lucan by the way, Lucan Valerius, over there is my sister Camilla. Seriously you're a lifesaver if you get it back."

The elf in the back got up "I can assist in retrieving the Claw as well. It would have been tough with just my bow. Since somebody with some _real muscle_ came I can see we'd make a gold team. I don't like to brag, but I once took down a bear at three hundred yards. In a blizzard."

Einar was pretty impressed by his claim, but the validity was questionable.

"Faendal, I don't really care who goes so long as you can get it!" Lucan said. "Head to Bleak Falls Barrow, northeast of town, that's supposedly where the thing is supposed to be used at. I'm no warrior so I never went myself."

Einar nodded and beckoned his new partner.

"So, this is your plan, Lucan?" Camilla said before Einar exited.

"Yes. So now you don't have to go, do you?" Lucan replied.

"Oh really? Well, I think our new helpers here need a guide."

"What...no...I...Oh, by the Eight, fine! But only to the edge of town!"

Camilla happily pranced over and opened the door for Einar. As they left Tacita spotted Einar and rushed over excitedly. Camilla and Faendal continued outside the village wall, past the Inn. Tacita pulled out a dagger seemingly out of nowhere and startled Einar.

"Look what I made!" She said. "I met a blacksmith named Alvor, he taught me how to make these. Well, It's not really from scratch but he let me finish the one he started."

Einar took the weapon from her and gently ran his finger along the blade. "This is actually really well made, you may have a knack for smithing in you." Einar said.

"Are you going somewhere?" She asked.

"Yes, I'm going to go help these people get their claw back from some bandits.".

Tacita's smile left her. "Where did they go?"

Einar pointed up to the mountains. "The ruins, Bleak Falls Barrow."

Tacita's eyes widened to his comment.

"Did I hear you saying you're going to Bleak Falls Barrow?" A man called from behind Tacita.

Einar looked over to see the the blacksmith Tacita mentioned, leaning over the balcony of his house. His big gut pressed hard against the wooden beams, smoke powdered his sweaty face and made his hair appear greenish in tint.

"I hope you don't plan on going up in the ruins wearing nothing but a tunic and pants?"

Einar looked down at himself. The only protection he had was the sword at his side.

"I can't have you heading to danger dressed like that." Alvor continued. " You must be Tacita's friend. A friend of hers is a friend of mine. I'll loan you some armor and you can pay me back for it another time."

Einar was surprised at the kindness of the man. Tacita took Einar's hand and pulled him up to a forge connected to Alvor's house. Alvor rummaged through a few chests until he found some old armor. It was heavily scarred, and dented, probably hadn't been worn in years. He took his time fitting Einar with the iron boots and gauntlets. Alvor chose studded armor that happen to fit similarly to Einar's old hide armor. Alvor strapped a pauldron of leather around Einar's right shoulder and fastened it with a steel plate. As a finishing touch, he handed Einar a helmet, it was just as beaten as the armor and had horns that curved inward to his face.

"There, now you look like a true Nord warrior." Alvor said.

Einar thanked him for his help.

"You should keep the dagger." Tacita said. "It might come in handy?"

Einar smiled at her. She wished him good luck and he headed off to retrieve the Golden Claw from Bleak Falls Barrow.


	4. Chapter 4: Whispering Walls

**Einar**

Einar and Faendal traversed up the mountain in the direction Camilla sent them, they were set back quite a while due to Faendal and Camilla flirting. Snow flurried all around, it was nearly impossible to see. Broken pieces of the Barrow buried deep under the snow kept them moving up on the right path. Their slope was rough to climb, mixed so heavily with the ice and snow. The cold air that swirled inside Einar's lungs cut like knives, the shift in temperature came faster than he and Faendal anticipated, they had no choice but to keep moving. a Nord could last longer in the cold than a Wood Elf, and Faendal wasn't fairing well.

"M-m-maybe we should head b-back." Faendal said, teeth chattering.

"No time." Einar replied. "We need to catch them before they leave this place, they're half way in by now."

The winds became more violent and the ruins that were guiding them began disappearing.

"I didn't expect it to get s-so cold up here." Faendal whined. "From t-the village the place looked calm! This will really effect my shot."

"We'll be inside soon."

They arrived at the steps of the Barrow and hurried to climb up them. The place was enormous, great stonemasons put their heart into architecture like this. 30ft stone gates followed up each set of stairs until they reached the top of the Barrow where large stone pillars sat on top of them. Through the mist surrounding the Barrow, Einar noticed something was off about one of them. A pillar appeared to be moving, as if the wind was knocking it. Einar heard a heavy voice, loud and clear through the heavy winds.

"Lok, vah koor!"

Einar was nudged backwards by an unseen force. Within moments the fog had disappeared, the wind stopped, and the skies became clear. The pillar that Einar saw moving was not a pillar at all, but instead a large dragon, coated in grayed scales. It was not the same dragon Einar had seen at Helgen, but the fear of seeing one was no different. His heart sunk deeper knowing that more of those things existed. Einar locked eyes with the Dragon, It stared back at him for several seconds before flying away to the south. He wondered if it did not see him as a threat; perhaps it wanted him to see it. The way it shouted made certain that it definitely had some sort of intelligence and could speak, though the language was foreign.

Faendal had ran to the top of the steps where he was shivering from fear or lack of warmth. The dragon wasn't coming back so Einar started up the steps. A howling noise came rushing to his ears, he turned to see all of the winds and fog from before were returning. They hit him with a powerful gust, forcing him down atop the stairs.

"S-Stop messing around! We h-have to get inside, Binder!" Faendal called out, louder than he probably should have.

Einar looked up at him and wanted to correct him for saying his name wrong but was too annoyed from falling over. He pulled himself up and pushed toward the entrance of the Barrow. The door was already left open making it easy to get in, he was certain that whoever was inside heard that dragon too, and possibly the shouting of Faendal.

The inside of the Barrow wasn't nearly as cold as it was outside, aside from frequent gusts of wind coming inward. It was dark; but not so dark they needed a light source. It looked exactly how Einar thought it would; a complete mess with dirt piled up everywhere. Destroyed columns left to wither with time, pieces of the ceiling missing that allowed snow to fall in, even some places that could have been rooms were long caved in. A campfire fire shone brightly behind a column. Bandits were camped not far from the entrance, the two got down low and began sneaking through the Barrow. One of the bandits were lying on the floor dead, next to him were a group of Skeever carcasses.

"He died from overgrown rats?" Faendal whispered trying to hold back a laugh.

The two continued closer to the campfire and hid behind some broken debris of the ruins. A man and a woman sat by the fire, Einar remembered these two from the Sleeping Giant Inn. There were only four of them at the Inn, and he didn't recognize the one killed by Skeevers. The mercenaries might truly have been a whole group of bandits after all. There were only two bed rolls set up on the floor and a campfire was turned into a roast pit, though nothing was set over the fire.

"Are you sure we're safe in here?" The female bandit asked. "Maybe Soling was right to go after them."

"Safer than we would be out there." The male bandit replied. "I heard what I heard, that was a dragon out here. We're safer inside waiting until Arvel gets back."

"So we're just supposed to sit here while he and everybody else runs off with that _Golden Claw_?"

"They want to go on ahead, let them. Better than us risking our necks."

"What if they don't come back? I want my share from that Claw!"

"Just shut it and keep an eye out for trouble."

Some rubble fell onto Faendal's head he jumped backwards making more noise than he ever should have.

"What was that?" The male bandit shouted. He Aimed his bow where Faendal and Einar were hiding. "Come out I know someone's back there!"

Einar stayed low and prepared his weapon. Faendal had already moved away into the shadows after realizing what he did. The bandit inched closer to where Einar was, the female bandit choked out as an arrow lodged into her throat and fell to the ground. The other bandit turned to her, Einar took the chance he was given to jump over the debris and jab his sword into his back, killing the bandit. Another arrow suddenly pierced through him as well. The blood from the bandit spurted onto Einar's mouth. He looked at Faendal with disgust.

"My plan worked just as expected!" Faendal said with a big smile.

Einar wiped the blood from his mouth and yanked his sword out of the bandit's back.

A stairwell revealed itself nearby, spiderwebs covered them from bottom to top making the Einar continuously brush off the sticking silk. It was apparent nobody had been down to even adventure in these ruins for years. Traveling throughout the halls made it more evident that the Barrow was once a prominent place of living for ancient Nords. Bookshelves and tables were scattered throughout; Urns, braziers, embalming tools and the like, were all on display atop stone tables. The objects appeared to have only been touched by the piling dust the past years. The two reached another set of steps, at the bottom across the corridor was a man who seemed to be lost in thought standing at a gate. Einar motioned for Faendal to ready his bow. The man down the corridor moved to the left of the room for a moment before he returned to view. He attempted to pull a lever set up in the middle of the room, a loud clicking noise echoed throughout the halls and the gate in front of the lever began to shake. A barrage of arrows suddenly impaled the man and he fell to the ground. Einar looked at Faendal who looked back in surprise.

"Guess he triggered a trap." Faendal said.

They got up and headed to where the man was killed.

"There will be more further in." Einar said. "This door has a puzzle. See the symbols?" He pointed above the gate atop a balcony. "Two snakes and a whale."

" Two snakes? I only see one up there." Faendal replied.

"It's not up there, it's in the rubble in front of us." Einar directed him toward a pile of debris where the second snake stone lied.

"Okay, so we have symbols but what do they mean?"

Again Einar pointed to the solution to the left. "You just turn the pillars over there to match the image up there, in the same order."

"Oh, I see. Well whoever made this wasn't the mastermind they think they are." Faendal walked over and attempted to shift the pillars.

"Well it killed one of the bandits, so, smarter than him."

When Einar looked back over to Faendal he was struggling to even move one of the pillars. Einar went over and pulled Faendal aside to turn the pillars himself. Though indeed hard to turn, he twisted them all to all display the proper images—_Snake, Snake, Whale—_

"I loosened them for you." Faendal scoffed.

Einar pulled the lever and the click echoed through the ruins again, the gate shook like before, then unhinged itself from the ground, shuffling open. Faendal and Einar headed inside. The room looked more taken care of here, No more cave ins, or broken columns, A spiral staircase was made to the left, in front of them was what looked to be a study area, or somewhere a guard would sit and watch the door, there were books stacked together on top of the table, though all of the dust had piled up as if they'd been there a long time. a pile of soul gems, and candles were lit, giving light to the area. It was as though somebody had been keeping the place as neat as possible. Faendal opened one of the books but the pages were so old he couldn't even make out a word. The gate behind them made a loud creaking noise before it shut itself, the two rushed over to it hoping to find a lever or someway to get it open but to no avail. Their only way out was to head downstairs. As they walked downward they entered a room that opened up into a library-like area infested with spiderwebs. Instead of books on the shelves there were bunches of wrapping paper, a table stood in the middle of the room with a scroll on top of it. Faendal picked it up and put it in his pouch.

"A Scroll of Fireball! You ever used one of these Grinder?" He asked.

"'_Einar'_, and no. I don't use magic, only blades." Einar replied.

"You're in for a treat then!" Faendal exclaimed excitedly.

They carefully crept deeper into the spider webbed ruins trying to not get caught in them. Three separate voices sounded out through the halls.

"You hear that?"

"That's the echo from you crying. Be quiet and accept your fate, _Arvel_."

"I'm on Arvel's side, I definitely heard something!"

"You're imagining things."

"Maybe it's the Spider, she's come to eat us all! You really set us up this time!"

The men continued shouting at each other, Einar and Faendal kept sneaking on. Quickly the whole ruin turned into a giant nest for spiders, webs and egg sacks hanging from the walls and stuck to the ground. Three bandits were wrapped up tightly together like cocoons.

"Hey look! People!" A large bandits shouted as Einar and Faendal entered the central chamber of the room.

"Yeah, you guys mind getting us out of this mess?" The skinny bandit requested.

Einar moved to the Dark Elf, who was wearing a peculiarly large helmet on his head. "You're the one they call _Arvel_, right?" He asked.

"Do I know you?" The Dark Elf said.

"Yup, that's him _Arvel the Swift_. Swiftly taking us to our deaths!" The larger bandit grunted.

"At least we're already in a tomb, eh?" The skinnier bandit joked.

"So you're his henchman then." Faendal scratched his chin and carefully looked over the bandits.. "What shall we call you guys: Bandit One and Bandit Two?"

"Can I be Bandit Two?!" The skinnier bandit asked squirming happily. "I don't want to be first, you know what they say about the first right?"

"Whatever makes you happy enough to cut us down, I'm all for it." The large bandit said.

"It's settled then, Bandit One, and Bandit Two!" Faendal said, standing triumphantly at the creation of their names.

"What is with this guy?" Arvel whispered. "Yes, I'm Arvel, but what's that got to do with you?"

"Uh, Guyner, we've got a problem." Faendal said, looking toward the ceiling. "A very _large problem_."

Einar looked to the ceiling and realized there was an enormous spider, missing a few of its legs, looking down on them.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of this!" Faendal said as he pulled out the scroll.

"No!" Einar shouted grabbing at Faendal's arm. "You'll burn the bandits alive if you use that thing here!"

"Hm.. Bow it is then." Faendal switched back to his less hazardous weapon and fired at the Spider.

It came crashing down onto the floor but quickly flipped itself back over and charged at Faendal. Einar followed behind the Spider with sword in hand, he leapt onto its back and attempted to hackaway, but the spider threw itself into the wall, knocking Einar off. The spider now turned its attention to him and began another charge, though it fumbles over its lack of legs and slid into Einar instead. The weight of the spider proved to be more impressive than he anticipated and it knocked him over. The spider prepared to sink its fangs into him, Einar was able to get his sword up to block the fang's approach. Faendal came from the side and stabbed an arrow into one of the spider's many eyes, it backed off in pain allowing Einar to get up. The Spider climbed up the wall attempting to flee, Faendal fired another arrow at it, this time when the spider smashed onto the ground, Einar made certain that he got to it before it could flip back over. He sent his sword through its mouth ending the spider's life.

"Well how about that! You actually killed the thing!" Bandit One laughed. "You did what would have taken us six more men!"

"That really says a lot about us as a crew." Bandit Two said.

"Yes yes, that's all well and good." Arvel said. "But if you haven't noticed, were all still stuck in that thing's web still!" He started squirming attempting to release himself.

"You shouldn't release him, he wears that stupid helmet because he thinks it makes him look like the leader; really he's just good at getting us into trouble." Bandit One said.

"He's trapped in the entrance to the next area, so we'll have to cut him down regardless." Einar said.

"Why?" Arvel asked.

"The gate doesn't open from this side. So we're actually stuck going deeper in." Faendal said. "Just hoping there's a way out."

"Ah!" Arvel exclaimed joyfully. "Good thing I have the _Dragon Claw_, otherwise we'd be stuck in here forever! See, if you don't get me out you won't know how to use the Claw! I'm the only one who knows the secret."

"He's not wrong, that's why we followed him in the first place." Bandit One said.

Einar pulled out the Dagger Tacita gave him and began sawing away at the web. Faendal broke an arrow and joined in for the other bandits.

"It's coming loose, I can feel it!" Arvel giggled in excitement each time a strand of webbing was cut.

Einar cut away a big clump and Arvel fell to the ground. He got up and tossed off whatever webbing he could, then looked at Einar and smiled.

"Sorry, but I have a treasure to get to!" He exclaimed before sprinting through the same corridor he was blocking. "So long 'friend'! Haha!"

Einar gave chase to him.

"I'm too swift for you!" Arvel taunted.

They sprinted past a few rooms not even paying attention to just where they were headed to. Eventually the ruins opened up into the catacombs of the Barrow.. Recesses in the walls held the lifeless bodies of the Ancient Nords; Draugr as they were called. Some of them were fully skeletal beings; while others had tightened skin displaying the ridges of their bones. Arvel hit the corner before Einar, but when they both were set in the room Einar bore witness to Arvel's head being severed from his body by one of the tightened skin beings. It's eyes glowed an eerie blue that fixated themselves on Einar. The axe it wielded has a unique rough style; but it was still as sharp as any blade Einar had seen.

The Draugr took a swing at him but Einar jumped backwards and retaliated with a swipe of his own that lobbed the Draugr's arm off. The Ancient Nord raised its axe for another attack. Einar was again able to dodge, but threw himself into the chest of another Draugr, suddenly there were three attempting to kill him.

"Hey don't take all the fun from us!" Faendal shouted and appeared into the room, along with Bandit One and Bandit Two.

The odds turned against the Draugr, they shouted angrily at the four men, Faendal took the opportunity to shoot an arrow through the mouth of the one that lost its arm dropping, it for good. Bandit One and Two charged at the Draugr with their short swords. The Draugr were pushed back but one of them was bold enough to slice at the air, blood spilled out from it's blade.

"Bandit One!" Faendal shouted at the sudden death.

"Actually I'm Bandit One," The real Bandit One said. "that was Bandit Two, but damn, he was my favorite!" He hollered, sending his blade across the murderous Draugr's chest. Old blood splattered onto his face.

Einar sent his blade through the final Draugr that tried to get behind Bandit One. The three of them left alive took a moment to catch their breaths. The Catacombs made Einar's skin crawl. He had just fended off something that should have been dead for four eras. Arvel's decapitated body still lied cold on the ground, Einar inched over and removed the bag from him. He rummaged through the items inside until he found the Golden Claw. Shaped like a reptilian skeletal foot, three long toes, and sharp talons carved at the tips. Images of animals were placed into coin slots at the soles of the foot. A Bear, a Butterfly, and an Owl.

Faendal leaned in toward Einar. "More animal puzzles?"

Einar nodded and wraps Arvel's bag around himself, dropping the claw back inside.

"Let's get moving before anything else wakes up." Einar said.

The three started to head even deeper into the catacombs until Faendal stepped on a pressure plate causing a spiked barricade to come flinging at him. He was able to jump out of the way but the trap still slammed against the wall making a loud bang that rang all throughout the Barrow. Einar turned to Faendal and witnessed the once sleeping Draugr all spring to life. There was no way they could take them all, so the three sprinted deeper into the catacombs, more and more Draugr woke and gave chase. Their path narrowed into a doorway with blades swinging side to side. They were left with little choice but to run through the trap. Without hesitation, Einar kept his momentum and ran straight past every blade just as they entered into the frame, he turned to watch his companions attempt the ordeal. Faendal and Bandit One did not make brave a swift attempt, they stopped and turned to face the Draugr. Bandit One was making his best attempts to stop them from getting past while Faendal slowly made it past the first blade, then the second. Bandit One took the opportunity to leap backwards, a Draugr was sliced in two by the blade, attempting to cross with him. It's torso flailed on the floor, Bandit One stabbed it through the head to stop the flailing undead.

The Draugr were clearly confused on how to approach and stood back watching the blades, angrily grunting. Bandit One and Faendal were able to make it over to Einar, unharmed. Bandit One handed Faendal the Draugr's blade, most likely in the hopes that he'll be more useful if they get stuck again. Though the group wanted a break, they didn't know how many Draugr had woken up throughout the catacombs so they pressed on. The path ahead was made up like a maze, most doors were blocked by large amounts of rubble, it was filled with webs; though doubtfully filled with anymore oversized spiders as the Draugr would surely have take care of them. There were crevices in the walls where Draugr slept, standing up like statues cradling large blades. The three wouldn't dare get too close to them for the event that they might wake up. The sound of water gently slid into Einar's ears. They had reached an exit of the Barrow that led into a cave entrance separated by a gate with a pull lever, where the water flowed underneath. Einar gave the lever a tug and the gate went up with ease, the stream led to a waterfall, at the bottom were piles of coffins and Draugr that met an unfortunate end. They crossed through a natural bridge that formed in front of the falls that led to an entrance back into the Barrow. They entered through an oversized door and were once again where the Draugr rested. After moving through as quietly as possible they entered into a room that looked like a training ground; the last thing they wanted to see in a Draugr infested ruin. Draugr were ready to come at them from all over the arena, archers lined up top, pulling back on their bows ready to launch an onslaught of arrows.

When the arrows started to fly, the three sprung into action dodging whatever they could while hiding behind statues and barricades for what they couldn't. Bandit One tried his luck at fighting the Draugr, and surprisingly came out successful with a few. Einar slipped in something wet covering the ground and landed on his side. He looked up to see lantern pots hanging from the ceiling dribbling their liquid all over the floor. _The Draugr must have hit them, _he thought to himself.

"Hey!" Faendal called out while ducking his head in and out from arrow-fire. "That liquid is flammable, get away from it!"

Einar clumsily got up and rushed toward Faendal.

"Like I said earlier; you're in for a treat." Faendal said as he pulled out the fireball scroll once more.

He unrolled the paper and faced it toward the nearest liquid. After a few short seconds multiple fireballs launched out and the arena quickly went up in flames. beams started collapsing and the Draugr burned. The trio rushed to the second floor of the arena, where a stone bridge was set ablaze from several fallen beams. Einar knew the risk for crossing was worth it. Just before they all got past the bridge the roof of the arena gave way, Einar and Faendal jumped to the other side, but Bandit One was hit with a a falling boulder and fell into the flames below. The two watch as the Draugr swarmed his body and burned together.

"Camilla had better love me after this." Faendal said.

"Do you not care that he just died?" Einar questioned.

"These bandits didn't even care about each other, did you honestly expect me to care for them?" Faendal sighed, and wiped the build up of smoke from his body. "Come now, we have a job to finish."

They pressed on through the door behind them. The door opened to a long corridor with a large mechanism embedded in the door. The top and largest wheel bore the image of the Butterfly; the middle an Owl; and the smallest a bear. Einar noticed the symbols on the door matched with the Golden Claw and he pulled it from his satchel. Below the wheels were three holes that would fit the talons of the Claw. Einar turned the wheels until they matched with what the Claw showed—Bear, Butterfly, Owl. He then shoved the Claw into its proper slot, the pressure released on the door. Einar turned the Claw like a keym and the door reacted to his movement and began to open. Einar pulled the Claw out and the two watched, hoping their journey had ended.

The mechanized door opened to a stairwell leading upward, the duo climbed up until it revealed a large open space of a cave, stalagmites covered the would be barren base, bats flew overhead from stalactites as they move underneath. An enormous altar stood before them set in front of a wall that was complemented with a large centerpiece resembling the head of a dragon. They climbed up to see if they could find a way out. Einar saw a staircase that led behind the wall. He was disturbed to see a coffin set up at the edge of the Altar. He felt a tightening in his chest and suddenly began hearing voices that sound like a choir chanting the same three words. As he looked to the wall underneath the centerpiece. He felt compelled to walk closer, the voices sung louder and louder the closer he got. Text that looked like it was carved with a relatively sharp object covered the wall, but he couldn't understand the language. He was enraptured and the chanting had grown so loud, it's aura so mystifying that he didn't hear nor feel Faendal there beside him at all. One line of text glowed brightly and Einar moved his hand to touch the word. Under his breath he read; _Fus. _His vision blurred, and an overwhelming gust of wind piled into his lungs, finding it hard to breathe he was forced to his knees. Within a few short moments Einar's senses began returning and the chanting faded.

The coffin behind them blew open so hard the door smashed the ceiling of the cave. A Draugr emerged from the coffin, standing several heads above the norm, missing an entire arm. It was mostly covered in charcoal-black armor, and brandished a sword much longer than Einar's. His piercing blue eyes stared at Einar, never averting their gaze. Through his still returning vision, Einar watched Faendal pull back on his bow, his arrow lodged into the Draugr's head causing it to fall over. Faendal pulled out his blade and rushed up to chop at it. A moment before he could even get there, the Draugr was back to his feet and ripped the arrow out of his helmet. It turned to Faendal and unleashed a cave quaking shout.

"Zun, Haal Viik!"

Faendal dropped his weapon and his hands went to his face. The Draugr unleashed another screeching shout.

"Fus... Ro Dah!"

Faendal was lifted into the air and flew at the wall behind Einar. The impact of his body smacking stone was wrenching enough, but when his body hit the ground the Dragon Centerpiece also toppled onto him. Einar felt his energy return and he regained his breath. His body felt renewed and filled with power. He unsheathed his sword and stood to face the Ancient Nord. The Draugr lifted its steel and pointed it toward Einar; it knew what it wanted, and Einar knew of the same. The two stood blades ready for a final face-off.

Einar began to circle around, and the Draugr followed opposite of him. Einar was first to make a swing, the Draugr knocked his sword away with a loud thud. The Draugr taunted him in an ancient language then lunged at him winding his blade up, Einar didn't dare to challenge his attack and ducked out of the way, the Draugr's sword slashed straight through the centerpiece and was caught on a protrusion. Einar slashed at the Draugr's exposed skin around its lower back. It shrieked and spun around freeing the blade which allowed it to unleash another swipe. Einar flipped his blade in an attempt to block, and was knocked down. He rolled out of the way of the Draugr's next blow; which came down noticeably weaker than the others. After he got to his feet, Einar readied his blade again, this time in an attempt to be the aggressor. He took a swing at the Draugr and it was blocked. The Draugr was unable to smack Einar's blade away as he did before. Einar noticed this and went for a barrage of hits, the Draugr blocked again, and again, taking a step back each time toward the fallen centerpiece. The Draugr stumbled and fell backwards as planned. Einar cut at its legs causing the Draugr to cry out. Einar kicked its sword away, the Draugr tries to ready up the same shouts used on Faendal from before, but Einar was quick to react and jabbed his sword toward its head.

"Fus... Ro-" the Draugr choked out, sending Einar on to his back.

The full effect of the attack was hindered by Einar's sword being lodged in the Draugr's throat. The metal armor thumped on the ground, followed by its helmet rolling off which signalled the end of the fight.

Einar hunched over the coffin that belonged to the Draugr, feeling defeated. His eyes caught a look at a stone tablet in the shape of a pentagon. It displayed a variety of carvings, but a large crack ran through the center making it hard to depict what the carvings were attempting to show. Einar took the tablet into his bag, feeling it may be worth something. From the deaths of his companions to the hordes of Draugr they faced, Einar was woefully unprepared for it all. Though through it all, he gained a sense of empowerment for defeating a foe such as the Draugr, he felt a need to get better. It was strange to him, he never felt the need to be above anybody else before, but here he was ready to take on any other challenge that may come his way.

The only thing left for Einar was to find the way out, he took one last look at Faendal and followed further up the altar. It led to a secret door that took him out to the Great Lake that the Guardian stones were overlooking. It was late evening and only getting darker. With Claw in hand Einar set out to follow the river back to the village.


	5. Chapter 5: Voice of the Nords

**Einar**

Einar knew his return to Riverwood wouldn't be as triumphant as he thought. Faendal may not have been one of the best people he met, but he did mean something to Camilla. Protecting somebody wasn't something Einar was used to, even though Faendal was capable in combat, there was no way he could have defended himself against the magic of the Draugr. He played with the idea of how he could have protected Faendal, but their ignorance to how a Draugr fought was ultimately both of their downfall. The Draugr didn't seem interested in taking Einar down the same way, even the difference in how the Draugr treated him was off putting. Einar's cheek and arms felt sore from blows he took during the fight, his head ached so much he had to remove his helmet. He felt back to his original self and thinking clearer, yet still distraught.

When he arrived at Riverwood he hadn't thought of the proper way to tell everybody what happened. With a heavy sigh he opened the door to the trader and entered inside. Lucan was happy to see him return, though Camilla didn't even seem to notice him walk in the door as yet another man was hanging around her, this time a Nord.

"Hey, I'm Sven." The Nord said.

Einar gave a slight wave in response.

"Ah! I almost closed the shop waiting for you. Did ya get the claw?" Lucan asked

"Yeah, right here." Einar took out the claw and set it upon the counter.

Lucan let out a joyous laugh. "There it is! Strange... it seems smaller than I remembered. Funny thing, huh? I'm going to put this back where it belongs. I'll never forget this. You've done a great thing for me and my sister."

"Where's Faendal? Did he go back home?" Camilla asked.

"Actually," Einar hesitated a moment. "Faendal didn't make it. A Draugr killed him."

Camilla fell to Sven's shoulder in what could only be described as a fake wail of anguish. Sven looked up at Einar and gave him a nod of approval before going back to pretending to comfort her. Einar scrunched his face at them and looked at Lucan, who just shook his head at his sister.

"I better get back to cleaning the store," Lucan said "What a mess."

"Actually, there was a stone I found inside the Barrow," Einar said. "Maybe you know something about it?" He pulled out the stone and passed it to Lucan.

"No, I can't say I've ever seen anything like it. I'm not much of an appraiser.. but.. it looks to me, like maybe… an ancient map?" Lucan followed along the lines of the slab. "Land masses here, a couple of mountains strewn on, rivers too. Hmm, this dotted line looks important. This symbol at the bottom.. looks like a helmet? No… maybe some sort of mammoth skull? It's most likely some sort of seal, or branding. I'd say this tablet's some ancient form of a delivery route!"

Einar shook his head dissatisfied with the answer. "I'll find an actual appraiser for it."

Lucan handed back the slab to him. Einar turned around to see Sven and Camilla kissing which prompted him to leave the store and try to rid his mind of the weird happenings inside. Upon leaving, Einar heard the laughter of two men as they came out of Alvor's house.

"There's the man I was talking about!" Alvor exclaimed waving Einar over.

Einar assumed he wanted him to pay for the armor now that he'd used it. When he got to the banister of Alvor's house it became clear who stood by him, who's head and arms were slung in bandages.

The man struggled down the steps to Einar, and the memories came rushing back. "Hello again, it's Hadvar. You still remember me don't you?"

"You were the List Holder at Helgen." Einar said, his chest pounded several beats faster.

"That's right! Oh, since you're here, I wanted to apologize about that. I was just following orders, even ones against my better judgement." Hadvar became visibly nervous. . "I know this will sound weird coming from me, but I'm glad that you're still alive. I don't blame you for going with Ralof instead of me either. I didn't make myself very trusting in that moment."

"Shouldn't you be with the rest of the Imperials?"

"Actually, they hadn't searched long for survivors, there was so much destruction and so many killed. They must have thought I died, lost among the burnt bodies."

"Well, it's good that you made it out alive. You're joining back with the Imperials again then?"

"Of course. I enjoy peace, I can't stand by and watch it constantly being taken away. This is my home too."

Einar was taken back by Hadvar's response, but he saw the truth in it. Skyrim belonged to all of these people, whether Imperial or Stormcloak. Two sides of the same coin, both fighting for their visions of peace. Up until now Ulfric had been on the winning side with his vision of Skyrim. General Tullius' recent attack managed to trump Ulfric's conquest as if he were just a common thief. Einar wondered if the new wave of Imperials were too powerful for even Ulfric.

"Well I don't want to keep you too long. I hope to see you again, perhaps over a drink next time." Hadvar held out his hand, out of instinct Einar shook it. Hadvar sent himself back to Alvor.

Even if he didn't like him for nearly getting his head lobbed off, Einar knew that Hadvar was not without merit. Einar wondered if he would have done the same we're he in his shoes. The sun had long gone down and Einar headed back to Gerdur's house. He opened the door to a warm home with a table filled with food.

"You're back!" Tacita pounced happily toward him. Her face shifted from happy to its usual concern as she rubbed at his cheek making Einar wince. "You're bleeding.." She said as she gently wiped the wetness over his face. Einar wasn't even aware of any cuts, only the sores.

"We're glad to have you back, safely." Gerdur said. "We made sure to make plenty of food so have at whatever you like. You have to be hungry after a day of dungeoneering."

Einar found a variety of things to place on his dish before settling down at the table. Frodnar pelted him with questions about Draugr while he ate. After an hour of the relaxation, Frodnar was sent to bed. Einar felt a shift in tone.

Gerdur leaned in to tell Einar what was on their mind. "We've decided to fill in the town on the truth about the dragons. While we do that; I was wondering if maybe you could head to Whiterun and request that the Jarl give us some sort of protection. I'm sure you've noticed there isn't even a town guard here by now. Divines know what would happen if a dragon attacked."

"I want to go too." Tacita added.

Everyone at the table passed a confused look at her.

"Are you sure, Tacita?" Hod asked. "It's dangerous, even the road between here and Whiterun has its share of obstructions."

"This town has been so nice to me. It's not right to just accept all of this without contributing." Tacita twiddled her thumbs.

"Sounds reasonable enough." Einar said. "We'll leave first thing in the morning."

"Alright, just be careful you two. When you go out, follow the river to the falls and Whiterun will be overlooking a great open plain." Gerdur said. "Oh yes, and take this paper with you." Gerdur slid a parchment to Einar. "That's a _Right of Travel_ as well as a letter written by me. They'll let you into Whiterun with it. Once you get to Dragonsreach, hand that letter to Proventus Avenicci. They'll do the work from there."

The rest of their time was spent cleaning before returning to the guest room to prepare for their trip to Whiterun. Einar and Tacita were given their good lucks in the morning and after a quick trip to the bathhouses the two were on their way. Tacita packed a decent amount of food for their trek and was already eating some of it. The weather was fairly fit for traveling with no sign of rain in their direction. Einar felt calm on the roads, but he kept his hand at his sword in case. They walked for several hours along the river taking in the sights of wildlife and nature until early evening came and the river's calm stream roared as it turned into falls as Gerdur said.

When they passed the falls Skyrim opened up to a vast plain filled with farms, shops, bars, and a large city at the center of it all. Dragonsreach dominated from the top of the city, a huge building overlooking everything in and out of the city's heavily stoned walls. The roads were filled up with people of all sorts heading into Whiterun or just coming to take in the sights. He wasn't even inside of the city and already Whiterun felt like a festival. After Einar and Tacita passed into the farms encircling the city, the shouting of people in distress caught their attention. From behind was a large giant stomping toward them, its arms covered in blood. Einar pulled out his sword and prepared to take on the monster. The giant stopped and turned before letting out a roar. In response, a group of three warriors gave a roar of their own before hacking at the giants legs and toppling it over a nearby farm. The group climbed on top the fallen giant and repeatedly stabbed at him with their blades. When their bodies and blades had been covered in blood they let out a cry of victory to each other. The citizens cheered them in response, while the unlucky farmer shouted profanities at them.

"Grey Armor of fine craft, and a wolf sigil on each piece." Einar said. "They must be from The Companions Guild.".

"Whiterun has a Guild of warriors?" Tacita asked.

"They'll fight for whatever they believe in, except wars. They're like mercenaries with hearts, they work off honorable achievements, they know the coin comes with it."

The Companions trailed up the road to Whiterun. Tacita was quicker to follow them than Einar. The two passed by stables and a Khajiit caravan camp filled with all sorts of exotic wares from all over Tamriel.

"Eyes forward," Einar said. "Browse around a Khajiit Caravan and you'll find you've lost more than you gained, even without spending your coin."

The path narrowed and the walls enclosed to defensive arrangements where many archers stood. The white and yellow banners of Whiterun were draped along the walls putting its horse's head on proud display. Einar and Tacita were halted by a line of people waiting to get inside of the city. A horde of people filed down the hills wearing disappointed expressions after being denied access to Whiterun. The Companions walked past the line to the city gate and the guards let them in without question. After a long patient wait the line died down and Einar was approached by the Guard at the gate.

"Hold, travelers. Nobody is allowed in or out of the city without a pass. When the people heard about Ulfric's capture the city's felt like it's busier than it's ever been, but this talk of dragons has the Jarl worried for his city's safety. You'll have to forgive us for not opening the gates to anyone like usual."

"We have our own business here from Riverwood." Einar said.

"Riverwood? Can't just let you in because you say you're from somewhere. I'll need more than that."

Einar dug in his bag and pulled out the Right of Travel that Gerdur gave him. The guard unfolded the parchment to read before handing it back and nodded his head to the guards behind him.

"Welcome to Whiterun. Be courteous to the Jarl's city."

The gates opened and the two entered what was called T_he Plains District_ as shown by the sign upon entry. Passing through all of the shops hearing the lively voices throughout the city, the banging of hammers near a blacksmith's shop, and the smell of cooked meat took hold of the air the closer they got to the market. The times that Einar had been to Windhelm were nothing like this, this city felt happy while Windhelm was damp and segregated, Einar began to think that traveling around Skyrim might not be so bad, _Kynesgrove could wait a while if all the cities were like this_. Tacita latched onto Einar's arm, most likely so she wouldn't get left behind due to the amount of people so close together around the square. Einar saw a sign that read _The Wind District_ pointing to the upper level of the city. This led them to the residential area where a large tree weeped from its lack of life in the center square. A priestess kneeled underneath lost in prayer, though whatever peace she may find was lost by an unclean man spouting anti-Thalmor propaganda nearby a Statue of Talos. The way the man was positioned in front of the statue made it seem like the blade was not stabbing a serpent, but rather the shouting man. It was starting to be troubling navigating through the city with all of the roads, but Dragonsreach stared down at them giving Einar a good idea of where they needed to keep heading.

"Hey, those people that killed that giant are here." Tacita said.

The warriors were entering a building further down the road resembling an upturned boat with a wooden canopy attached to it.

"Jorrvaskr; The home of the companions." Einar said. "If you're so interested in them, you should ask to join."

Tacita shook her head in response. "They wouldn't accept somebody like me, I'd get killed in the first day!"

"You never know, you might find you're better at it than you think."

She seemed to consider it for a moment before she rushed back to Einar's side. The two continued heading northward to the _Cloud District._ The noble families found their ways to the lavish homes along a winding road that led to the ancient palace of Dragonsreach. The bridge they had to cross had guards with much fancier armor on either side that stared at them as they neared the palace. When they reached the doors two guards halted them

"State your business."

"An urgent request from Riverwood regarding the Dragons."

The guards looked at eachother. "I have family in Riverwood, you say this is about Dragons?"

"I saw one myself—at Helgen."

"Helgen?" The guards look at eachother. "Hand over your weapons and you can come inside. But watch your tone. Jarl Balgruuf is in a meeting."

The guard took Einar and Tacita's blade's and personally led them into the Palace. The doors opened up to an open dimly lit room with several columns that protruded from the floorboard to the ceiling. A distinct scent of complimentary meals cluttered the air. A few maids swept around the foyer of the palace, though the place looked way too clean for them to still be sweeping. A set of steps led to the throne, long tables filled with men and women in armor or neatly dressed for the occasion. Between them was a fire pit that filled the palace with warmth. The Jarl slouched casually in his chair not even noticing Einar and Tacita entered the area. The skull of a Dragon was mounted above him, only slightly resembling the Dragon Einar had seen at Helgen. Einar felt a presence to the side of him from the dark corner of the room.

"Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving 's the meaning of this?" The voice of a woman said. She wrapped around to the front of Einar, revealing herself to be a dark elf woman with tattoos that ran along her cheeks. Her blade was fully drawn forcing Einar's hands up in surrender.

"No worries Irileth, these two are with me. They have news from Helgen, about the dragon attacks."

"You let these two vagrants in on account of hearsay? How do you know they're not lying?"

"I have a letter from Riverwood's mayor in my bag." Einar said.

Einar reached into his bag only to be whipped by the flat end of the Irileth's blade.

"I'll check the bag, give it to me."

Einar carefully removed the bag and pushed it over with his foot. Irileth rummaged through for the letter, upon finding it she seemed to recognize the seal and didn't bother pursuing further as she sheathed her blade. "My apologies. Can't be too careful. You'll need to see the Jarl right away." She said and handed Einar his bag back. "Well what are you waiting for? Get back to your post soldier."

The guard scurried off back to the bridge and Irileth beckoned Einar and Tacita to follow. They stopped at a banister in front of where the Jarl's throne sat. Jarl Balgruuf gave no attention to them and continued watching over his guests.

"Wait here." Irileth said. "Proventus will want to hear about this first."

She wandered up the steps to speak to a bald man in fine clothes that stood attentively by Jarl Balgruuf and whispered into his ear. Irileth gave Proventus the letter and he read over it. He put on a concerned face and bent over to whisper to the Jarl Balgruuf. The Jarl gave a surprised look and his eyes trailed over to Einar and Tacita.

"Is it true?" Jarl Balgruuf's voice boomed out over the crowd of politicians. "You saw the dragon in Helgen?!"

The room went silent and all attention was brought onto the two.

"The Imperials were about to execute Ulfric Stormcloak," Einar said. "that's when the dragon attacked."

"I should have known Ulfric would be mixed up in this." Jarl Balgruuf said. "What do you say now, Proventus? Should we trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?"

"My lord." Irileth walked toward Jarl Balgruuf. "We should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger. If that dragon is lurking in the mountai-"

"The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation!" Proventus shouted in detest. "He'll assume that we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him! We shou-"

"Enough!" Jarl Balgruuf Jumped to his feet stomping in anger. "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my Hold and slaughters my people!" He moved to the edge of the banister. "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes my Jarl." Irileth replied before heading toward the exit.

Jarl Balgruuf calmed himself and reclined back in his throne. Proventus returned to relaxing at his side. Jarl Balgruuf took a deep breath then put on a smile. The feast returned to normal, and he beckoned Einar and Tacita over.

"You've done Whiterun a service in confirming these dragon attacks. I won't soon forget it. As a small token of my esteem; I'll gladly grant any request you two might have."

Einar pondered for a moment before remembering the stone he found in the ruins and pulled it out of his bag. "I found this deep in the Draugr ruins." He handed the tablet to Jarl Balgruuf "It looks like some sort of map, is there anybody in the city that can appraise this?"

"Treasure hunting I see?" Jarl Balgruuf replied, scanning the object. "I'll send you to Farengar; my Court Wizard." He handed the tablet back to Einar "He can be a bit.. difficult. Mages, you know. He's been looking into these dragons and these rumors of dragons. Something from Draugr ruins would be easily identified by him, and he may pay you a good price for it if you don't want to search into it yourself. Proventus, show these two to Farengar."

"Of course my Jarl."

Proventus led them over to a nearby hallway and directed them to walk down it until they found a dimly lit room. Einar could smell freshly brewed potions that made his nose itch. When they entered the room books were scattered all about and maps that spanned the walls with scribbles that covered them so much Einar wondered if they had any purpose at all. The Court Wizard, Farengar stood hunched over in blue robes and accented by yellow bands around his waist, next to him was a woman hiding under a hooded cloak, the two were busy overlooking a book. Einar and Tacita waited patiently in the door frame.

"You see? This terminology is clearly first era, or even earlier." Farengar told the woman. "I'm convinced this is a copy of a much older text, perhaps dating the Dragon War. If so I can use this to cross reference the names with the other later text."

"Good." The hooded woman replied. "I'm glad your making progress. My employers are anxious to have some tangible answers."

Einar heard a familiarity in her voice, yet couldn't place where he heard the voice.

Farengar closed the book to two were looking over. "Well thankfully, unlike most people dismissing the rumors as myths, the Jarl himself has taken an interest. So I'm now able to devote most of my time to this research."

"Time is wasting Farengar. Dragons have returned this isn't some Theoretical question."

"Yes yes, don't worry. Although the chance to see a living dragon up close would be tremendously valuable."

The woman locked eyes with Einar before swiftly looking away. "We have a visitor."

"Oh, is there something you two need?" Farengar asked.

"We were sent by the Jarl." Einar placed the stone tablet upon Farengar's desk. "He says you might know something about this."

Farengar jumped at the stone in surprise. "Ah! The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow! You already found it!" He took the stone into his hands, the hooded woman and him surveyed every detail together. He passed the stone to the woman and walked around his desk to praise Einar with a handshake. "You are cut from a different cloth than the usual brutes the Jarl foists on me." He looked to the hooded woman again. "So your information was correct after all. And we have our friend here-Uh, what were your names?"

"I'm Einar, and this is Tacita."

"Our _friends_, Einar and Tacita to thank for it!" Farengar continued.

The hooded woman barely raised her head enough to reveal her eyes. "You went into Bleak Falls Barrow and got that? Nice work." She placed the stone down and walked out of the room. "Just send me a copy when you've deciphered it." She said, then headed down the hallway.

"I actually wasn't planning on giving away the stone for free." Einar said.

"Oh? You want a reward, of course!" Farengar replied. "The Jarl will definitely give you something for your trouble. This is the exact thing I needed. My associate you saw there actually worked out the details of finding it. It's purely happenstance that you found the tablet and presented it here."

The sound of armor shifting and boots pounding against the wooden floor rang behind them and Irileth entered the room

"Farengar!" She shouted, nearly tripping. "You need to come at once, a dragon's been sighted nearby!"

Farengar's face shone even brighter than when he received the stone tablet. "A dragon! How exciting! Where was it seen—what was it doing?!"

Irileth beckoned all three of them to join her down the hall. Einar shrugged at Tacita and they followed behind.

"I would take this more seriously if I were you." Irileth's voice hardened. "If a dragon decides to attack Whiterun.. I don't know if we can stop it."

They headed even farther into Dragonsreach climbing multiple flights of stairs that led to the top floor that was the War Council Room of Dragonsreach, The Jarl leaned over a table that had a map pinning every landmark of Skyrim, he was talking to a young guard. Einar remembered fairy tales he heard as a kid, behind the back doors of this room was a device that held a dragon captive by the name of Numinex.

"Irileth tells me you came from the Western Watchtower." Jarl Balgruuf said.

"Yes my lord." The guard replied, completely distraught. "We saw it coming from the south... it was fast... faster than anything I've ever seen."

"What did it do? Is it attacking the watchtower?"

"No, my lord. It was just circling overhead when I left. I never ran so fast in my life... I thought it would come after me for sure."

Jarl Balgruuf placed his hand on the young guard's shoulder. "Good work son. We'll take it from here. Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You've earned it."

The guard quickly hurried off downstairs.

"Irileth, you'd better gather some guardsmen and get down there."

"I've already ordered my men to muster at the gate."

"Then we're ready." Jarl Balgruuf moved to Einar. "You two were at Helgen when it was attacked by a dragon. We could use whatever information you have to help us fight this thing. I would be in your debt from this as well."

"Tacita isn't a fighter, but I'll help any way I can." Einar said. Some part of him wanted to see if he stood a chance against a dragon, while another was curious just to see how they fought. If it was anything like the dragon at Helgen, he wanted to know first hand if Skyrim stood a chance. "I've never had to directly fight a dragon, we were all running from it."

"Even if you haven't fought it, you must certainly know something about the dragon we don't. We'll keep Tacita safe in Dragonsreach."

"I should come along," Farengar said. "I would very much like to see this dragon."

"No, I can't afford to risk you." Jarl Balgruuf's tone remained stern. "I need you here working on ways to defend the city against these dragons."

"As you command." Farengar's face saddened as he left the room.

"One last thing Irileth. This isn't a death or glory mission. I want to know what we're dealing with."

The Jarl dismissed them all from the war council room and the newly recruited dragon hunters headed off to the gate of Whiterun. It was such a strange feeling to be nearing a dragon again, this time Einar was willingly pursuing it and yet the fear he felt at Helgen was not overcoming him this time, _Was it excitement or something more? _ he thought to himself. Before leaving Dragonsreach Tacita stopped Einar at the door.

"You're really going to fight a dragon?" She said. "I don't feel comfortable with that."

"I know." He said. "This is something that I want to do. Go back to Farengar and take the reward for the Tablet, whatever you feel it should be. When I return the roads should be safe for you to go back to Riverwood."

"What if you don't come back? You saw what that dragon did to Helgen!"

"Even if I don't make it back, you need to keep safe and head to Riverwood when you can."

"No, I'm coming with you!"

"You're not going anywhere near that dragon. If I let you go with me I won't be able to protect you, not from something like this. You need to learn to control your fear before you're useful in a fight."

Tacita moved to the side, her eyes reddened but Einar would rather hurt her feelings than lead another person into their death, he didn't want the death of Farengar to replay itself. Einar left Tacita's side and headed out of Dragonsreach into the streets of Whiterun. Clamor all around as people speculated about the dragon, some even took to locking themselves inside of their house as if that would save them from the attack. Einar headed to the entrance of Whiterun in time to see Irileth beginning a speech to a large crowd of guards that didn't seem eager to hear what she had to say.

"Listen up everyone! We have a dragon attempting to strike at our city!" She began.

The guards mumbled amongst each other about the dragon attacking.

"You heard right! I said a _dragon_!" Irileth continued. "I don't much care where it came from or who sent it, but it's made the mistake of attacking Whiterun!"

"But Housecarl," One of the guards spoke up. "how can we fight a dragon?"

The other guards agreed and repeated similar phrases.

"That's a fair question, none of us have ever seen a dragon, nor expected to come into contact with one in our lifetime. But we are honor bound to fight it— even if we fail. This dragon is threatening our homes... our families. Could you call yourselves Nords if you run from this monster? Would you force me to fight it alone?"

Some of the guards seemed reluctant while others were coming to her side. She continued attempting to bring them over however.

"It's more than honor at stake here! Think of it — the first dragon seen in Skyrim since the last age! The glory of killing it is ours, if you're with me! What say you Nords of Skyrim, shall we kill us a dragon? Or will you cower in fear as it slays the very people you protect?"

"I'm sorry Housecarl." a guard began. "But if dragons truly are returning, and I have to go headfirst to something I don't know anything about. Well, I say that's suicide, I'm declining this fight. I'm going back to my family and we're moving far away from here as possible."

The man's words caused a reaction in which other guards to agreed. A large and uncomfortable amount of them began leaving, either to live to fight another day, or to accept their fate of a dragon-made end. Einar felt sorry for them and their families, he had no desire to do the same however.

"If you must leave then do so," Irileth said. "But the rest of us, will you stand with me and fight this dragon?!"

The very small army of guards that were left shouted a rally cry at her words with their weapons aimed toward the sky they shouted in preparation. Irileth directed the men to follow behind her and they marched out of Whiterun with Einar not far behind. Citizens cheered them on and prayed for their safe returns as they left. The city walls were no longer filled with traders and merchants attempting to sell products, not even a horse had been left outside on display. An eerie feeling filled the cold evening air as the sun continued to descend, so quickly was Whiterun left deserted. When they reached the nearby watchtower, the destruction was evident for all to see. Bodies layered the ground, one side of the tower had been completely demolished while the remaining tower barely stood, the grasslands were frozen solid, and some of the surrounding areas had puddles of water as though it had been raining only there.

"Spread out and look for survivors! We need to know what we're dealing with" Irileth commanded as she rushed in. The army unsheathed their weapons and followed as did Einar.

A guard shuffled out of the tower screaming at all of them

"Stop! Don't come any closer!" The guard pleaded, his arm covered in blood. "That dragon isn't gone it took Hroki and Tor when they tried to make a run for it! You have to leave now before it kills all of you too!"

An ear splitting roar bellowed from the sky. A bright white dragon with a blue underbelly swept the guard off the ground before ripping him in half letting his legs fall while it consumed the rest of him. The dragon wasn't half the size of the _Black Dragon_ in Helgen, but intimidating nonetheless as its small size allowed it to dart around the sky at amazing speeds.

"Everyone find cover!" Irileth shouted, "inside the tower, now!"

Nobody hesitated to get to the only cover they had. The guards pushed and shoved to get inside first, then huddled against one side. It was quiet. Some guards searched out the windows, scanning the skies for the dragon. A loud thud echoed, Einar could hear the dragon's claws scraping as it climbed around the exterior, making his skin crawl in anticipation. The beast's weight made it easy to detect where it was at what time. Unlike in Helgen this dragon made no attempts to burst into the tower, it was as though it were taunting them. Some of the guards headed to the lower levels of the tower to grab bows and arrows, readying them for any who needed them. The guards armed each other and Einar followed the group that headed to the top of the watchtower to meet the dragon. The sun was fading, and the darkness crept upon them, giving the dragon the advantage. Although it's skin shined white in color, its speed would promise none would see it for too long. Standing quietly atop the tower everyone listened for the dragon, but no sounds came. Einar looked over the tower's walls yet the dragon was no longer scaling it, which could only mean it was in the skies, perhaps even behind the clouds, if it could fly high enough. Einar felt a chill overcome him, followed by a shout.

"Krif krin!" The dragon bellowed. Making everyone look in its direction. It sped up toward them before hovering mid air. "FO KRAH DIIN!" The voice heaveed sending a stream of ice crystals spewing from the mouth of the dragon toward the watchtower.

"Shields up everyone!" Irileth shouted

the guards covered themselves from the impending attack, Einar ducked down with them trying not to let any part of himself stick out. When the ice hit them, it hit hard. The air ran colder than anything Einar had ever felt, the dragon passed overhead stopping the flow of ice. The guards all toss their shields aside as the drop in temperature was sticking the metal to their skin.

"Pruzah!" The dragon yelled back in an excited tone.

"Back into the tower!" Irileth commanded.

When the dragon came for a second strike the guards were hurriedly forcing themselves into the tower but not enough got in to save everyone from the ice riddled attack. Einar was amongst the last group heading inside and got hit by crystals from the dragon's breath, his armor barely held up against the small bits, while a few prodded at his exposed arms and stuck to him, though they didn't seem capable of breaking skin, he couldn't peel them off either. Racing against the dragon's third round, Einar was able to get inside, however the dragon sealed the exit with a block of ice. Einar saw through the reflection of the glass that some guards hadn't made it in time. They turned bows ready and fired as many arrows as they could before being crystallized in a direct hit from the dragon. Einar noticed how much slower the dragon moved when it was shouting its breath of ice at them.

Stuck inside the tower freezing, the dragon continued to toy with them, once again climbing along the sides of the tower..

"I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals can provide!" The dragon said clearly in full Tamrielic dialect. Einar's skin crawled at the sound and he gripped tighter on his bow.. "If you wish to hide in your tower, then I-the great Mirmulnir-shall be certain that it is your grave. This world shall once again bow to its God; _Alduin_"

The dragon, Mirmulnir, began sealing up the windows of the tower one by one, Einar hurriedly aimed his bow out the windows attempting to shoot the dragon as it flew by, but it proved near impossible to do with how fast Mirmulnir soared. The tower was eventually encased in ice and the remaining heat was fading fast, guards tried desperately to break through the ice with their weapons.

"We're going to freeze to death in here!" A guard cried.

Einar's eyes darted around the room, until he noticed the ice set around the torches were melting quickly. He loosened a torch from out of the wall and held it by one of the windows. Some of the guards caught on to what he was doing and joined in on the melting. The ice thinned enough that Einar could smash through it with the pommel of his blade.

"We'll lure the dragon over by hitting the walls on the outside." Einar began. "We'll lace the arrows with fire from the torches, hopefully it'll weaken the dragon to where we can at least get him on the ground."

"That's a decent plan, but that window has such poor visibility. We can't even see the dragon coming." Irileth said.

"You're a Dunmer, do you know anything about magic?"

"I'm better at shocking things than I am with fire."

"No, an electric shock might spread through the tower, and kill us all. Whatever fire you can muster up would do, you and a few others head to the top to try and open up the roof again. We'll keep the dragon at bay here. Once you can get onto the roof, hit the dragon with the fire laced arrows."

Irileth nervously nodded "You heard him men! It's the only idea we've got right now, on me!"

Einar looked out the window to make sure Mirmulnir wasn't around. He stuck just enough of himself outside to get his arm through. With his exposed arm he repeatedly banged his sword on a sheet of ice from above.

Mirmulnir flew over. "Try as you might, you will not escape!"

A guard prepped an arrow with flame and flung it at Mirmulnir, but not fast enough as the breath of ice came quicker than the arrow, knocking it away and resealing the window. Einar had to move away from the icy breath that shot through the opening.

"Again, but quicker this time!" Einar insisted as he pulled another torch to a different window.

They repeated the same process, but quicker as the guard already flamed and knocked his arrow, Einar got through the barricade of ice and banged his sword calling the dragon over once more.

"You are persistent, accept your fate, mortals." Mirmulnir taunted as it greeted them.

The guard launched his arrow and it hit the dragon directly. Mirmulnir cried out and flew away. The guards cheered at the shot commending the guard. Mirmulnir once again closed off the window with ice. Einar repeated the process a third time, but the dragon didn't come.

"He's not going to make the same mistake twice." Einar said. "We'll have to catch him as he flies, he wouldn't risk going too close now. Start melting the other windows at the same time! If we're quick we'll be able to catch him while he's flying around."

The guards began melting at any available windows. They aimed their bows through the small slits, and waited. Not even a sound, Einar was going to attempt to bang on the ice outside, but before he could get to the window Mirmulnir's head popped up.

"Mortals are so easily predictable." He laughed. "FO KRAH DIIN!"

Shouting at such a close range with its ice breath covered the room of the tower. Einar felt the cold clinging to his lungs forcing him to slow his breathing. He tried to knock his bow, yet it became so hard to move that he couldn't even pull back the string, much less pull an arrow out, Einar's arms turn blue as they were covered in ice, his arms burned and the tower had lost any bit of heat it held. Suddenly the stream of ice crystals ended and the dragon let out a loud cry as a rain of fire arrows fell onto him. When Einar thought they might have finally got him out of the sky Mirmulnir, swiftly darted past the next volley of arrows. Einar rushed to the top of the tower ignoring the burning sensation in his arms, he made it just in time to see the Dragon as it charged them. The guards knock their arrows and let them fly at the Dragon. Mirmulnir once again began to shout out the breath of ice, but Einar abused Mirmulnir's lack of speed during his shouts and leapt over the tower onto the dragon grabbed hold of it's legs. Mirmulnir attempted to kick him off but Einar dug his blade into the dragon's skin and used it as a hold. Mirmulnir tried to bite at him but it couldn't reach as Einar was already climbing around to its back. Rolling around in the sky was only met with a stronger grip from Einar. The dragon steadied and Einar took the short window to slash at the dragon's winged arms. Mirmulnir cried out and the two were sent downward. Einar braced himself for the impending crash. Mirmulnir shifted his body to avoid the tower and grinded along the ground until it slammed into a chunk of rubble. The dragon's body was freezing cold, Einar could still feel it breathing and knew it was alive. He slid off its back and knelt at the dragon.

"My defeat brings by your hands brings me Honor, Nord." Mirmulnir whimpered out. "A shame you mortals do not understand the eternity that is us dragons. When I return I expect more than a battle inside a tower." he chuckled until his breath halted.

The rest of the group crowded around Mirmulnir's defeated body poking him with their swords.

"Let's make sure the overgrown lizard is dead." Irileth said pressing her sword into the dragon's neck.

Mirmulnir jerked back to life and thrashed around. "What's happening?" its body began shimmering a golden veil of light and the scales burned away.

Einar and him locked eyes and he could see the fear in Mirmulnir.

"Dovahkiin? No!" Mirmulnir sounded as he was engulfed into flames leaving only a scalding hot skeletal remain.

Einar witnessed a yellowish-purple aura fly from the bones and into his body. The icey burns he felt left him, and the ice around his arms fell to the ground. He felt as though he had been restored his life and his bruises healed. The familiar feeling from Bleak Falls Barrow returned as did the accomplished feeling in defeating his enemy. The guards looked at Einar in awe, Irlieth attempted to retrieve her blade from the skeleton's neck but burned her hand.

"I can't believe it... you're _Dragonborn_." A guard said.

Einar stared at the guard, "What do you mean?"

"Back when Dragons still roamed the skies, _The Dragonborn_ would slay dragons and steal their power!" The guard motioned his arms at Mirmulnir's skeletal corpse. "That's what you did isn't it? Stole the dragon's power?"

Einar didn't know how to answer the man's question, more guards started chiming in as well.

"Dragonborn? What are you talking about?" A guard asked.

"Those born with the dragon blood in them, like old Tiber Septim himself" another guard added.

"I never heard of Tiber Septim killing any Dragons."

"There weren't any dragons then, idiot! There just coming back in the first time in... forever!"

"What do you say Irileth? About this Dragonborn business, do you believe it?"

Irileth was finally able to lift her blade and sheathed it before facing the guards, "Some of you would be better off keeping quiet than flapping your gums at something you know nothing about. Here's a dead dragon, and that's something I definitely understand. Now we know we can kill them. But I don't need some Mythical 'Dragonborn'. Someone who can put down a dragon is more than enou-."

"You wouldn't understand Housecarl you ain't a Nord." a guard cut her off.

Irileth's face scrunched. "I've been all across Tamriel! I've seen plenty of things just as outlandish as this!" She began to walk away with one last quote. "I'd advise you all to trust in the strength of your sword arm over tales and legends."

"Never mind her, friend." The guard said. "How about you try and shout for us?"

Other guards began egging Einar on. He gave a smile at the attention he was getting then attempted to try and figure out how to shout, if he could. His mind went to remembering what the Draugr from Bleak Falls Barrow shouted at him. His stomach tightened at the thought, he closed his eyes and breathed in heavily before he unleashed his voice. "FUS!" Einar's voice rang out with a visible and thundering gust of wind that pushed the guards back a couple inches, nothing close to the Draugr in the ruins, but regardless the guards began shouting praise at Einar for what he just did.

Einar caught a glimpse of Irileth as she turned back at him from atop the hill. She shook her head before continuing on to Whiterun. Excitement overcame Einar as he gained hope for another way to fend off the dragon's, he raised his sword to the night sky and accepted the praise of the guards.


	6. Chapter 6: Where Heroes Begin

**Tacita**

Tacita prayed over her amulet of Kynareth for Einar's return. Farengar gave her more gold than she knew what to do with as compensation for the slab. She hadn't many chances to handle money growing up, she understood the concept behind it but wasn't well versed on the value of goods. Einar had been gone for a while and she wasn't sure what to do. He told her to make her way back to Riverwood, yet she didn't want to have to leave him. She enjoyed the idea of adventuring, but without a partner she didn't feel comfortable heading out on her own. She loved her time in Riverwood, but it made her feel like she was using them. Besides that she liked the walls that came with cities instead, it reminded her of the home she left in Cyrodill. She couldn't recall the name, but she remembered the place being cold and snowy, though it was far from being as cold as Skyrim. She vaguely remembered the days she walked outside and saw the walls that made the world feel isolated and safe—until she left those walls for Skyrim. Riverwood was such a small defenseless place where anything could happen. The few guards the Jarl sent couldn't possibly protect them from anything, especially not a dragon. Tacita wondered if anything could handle a dragon at all.

Her thoughts were halted when the entirety of Dragonsreach began shaking. Plates fell from tables and shelves, the chandeliers threatened to come loose and crash down, Tacita found even herself stumbling over the chair she was sitting in.

"DOH-VAH-KIIN!" The Voices called out so clearly Tacita thought a crowd of men stood directly behind her.

"What in Talos' name was that?" Jarl Balgruuf yelled from his throne.

"It sounded like the Greybeards!" Jarl Balgruuf's burly brother, Hrongar said.

"What could it mean? Is there a Dragonborn among us?"

As the politicians debated over whatever the _Greybeards Call _could mean, an army of guards entered into the room with Irileth leading in front. The group looked like they had been fighting with an iceberg, all except Einar, who looked like he hadn't even been on the same battlefield—only the wetness from mud covered his body..

"Did you all take care of that _Dragon_ at The Watchtower?" Jarl Balgruuf hesitantly asked. "You all look like you've been to Oblivion and back."

"Consider the watchtower destroyed, my Jarl." Irileth began. "But rest assured, we killed the dragon."

Jarl Balgruuf gave a hearty laugh "I knew I could count on you! So the things can be killed then? I expected more of a fight."

"Well." Einar began to speak. "When we defeated the dragon I absorbed some kind of power from it. It seemed to think it would still be alive until that not happened."

"So it's true. The Greybeards were summoning you, of all the people to bring to my doorstep."

"They want to teach me the Way of the Voice then? The same thing Ulfric used against the High King..."

"They want to teach you the Thu'um, the shouts of dragon's."

Hrongar walked to Einar with a big smile across his face. "That thundering sound you heard as you entered Whiterun; that was the Greybeards call. They were summoning you to High Hrothgar. This hasn't happened in Centuries not since Tiber Septim himself was summoned, back when he was still called Talos of Atmora."

"You're in the hands of the Greybeards now, Dragonborn." Jarl Balgruuf said. "Whatever happened when that dragon was killed, it revealed something in you. Something the Greybeards felt. There's no refusing the summons of the Greybeards, it's a tremendous honor. You're going to have to climb the 7,000 steps to get to the Throat of the World." Jarl Balgruuf stood up from his throne and moved toward the fires. "You've done a great service for me and my city, Dragonborn. By my right as Jarl I name you Thane of Whiterun. It's the greatest honor within my power that I can grant."

He motioned for one of his personal Housecarls to come over to Einar before he returned to his seat and shouted "Let us celebrate our victory!"

A woman with flowing black hair, garbed in fur lined steel armor revealing her muscular arms, walked to Einar and smiled at him.

"My name is Lydia and as per your return I am assigned as your personal Housecarl, from this day forth, you have my undying loyalty."

Tacita became flustered at somebody else joining Einar, but was too afraid to say anything. In Comparison to Lydia Tacita knew she couldn't even hold a candle to how useful an actual warrior would be for Einar.

"It's a pleasure to work with none other than the Dragonborn himself." Lydia said.

If her contrasting appearance wasn't enough, even her confidence made Tacita feel even smaller than she was.

"As my Thane I'm sworn to protect you. The 7,000 steps will serve as a true testament to my loyalty." Lydia reached into the wrap slung around her and pulled out a blade wrapped in a yellow cloth with Whiterun's horse sigil. "This blade is made of Skyforge Steel. Only Eorland Graymane knows how to work the metal. It was crafted for the Jarl's personal armory. You'd be hard pressed to find anything stronger than it, no matter where you are in Tamriel. I was told to give it to you after I get placed in your service."

Einar took the sword and unwrapped it to display the exquisitely crafted sheathe mixed with gold accents of Whiterun. When he took the blade out, it was so finely kept it looked like it had been on display since its creation. It was much longer than Einar's previous sword, and shimmered with every movement he made. The runes that layerered the blade had a faint blue sheen to them making the sword appear azure. Tacita could tell Einar liked it thanks to the unfamiliar grin that took over his face. He sheathed the blade and turned to Tacita. She could feel her cheeks reddening at his gaze. She knew what he was about to tell her; _Go home, _she thought to herself.

"Are you okay?" He asked, surprising Tacita.

"She's your friend, correct?" Lydia asked. "I saw her waiting here. I never would have guessed it was for you, she looks too young to be adventuring."

"She's a good friend. If she's willing to learn how to defend herself; I don't see a problem with her adventuring with me."

"I wouldn't mind teaching her to fight, if she'd allow it."

"Actually, I agree." Tacita began. "I don't think I'm ready for adventuring. Quite yet, at least."

"That accent doesn't sound native, you're not from Skyrim are you?"

"I'm from Cyrodiil." Tacita said, her slight flustered emotions made her want to get away from the situation.

"If you're not ready to go then that's fine." Einar said. "You'll find your own way, I know you will. For now this is goodbye, I know our paths will cross again, Tacita." He nodded his head at her before leaving Dragonsreach with Lydia.

Tacita watched as her only friend left her alone again, no one to guide her around Skyrim or tell her what to do. The only sense of guidance left was to return to Riverwood, but she didn't want to go back there. She felt so helpless watching Einar leave her, though she knew she wasn't good enough to keep up with him. He even turned out to be a person of legend, yet there she was—a runaway who made her way to Skyrim only to land herself in the middle of a Civil war, and on top of that the return of Dragons. Tacita was tired of feeling helpless, but helpless was the hand she had been dealt since birth.

She left Dragonsreach and headed to the Wind District where the dead tree still wept. If Einar didn't stop at an inn he was probably halfway out of the city by now. She looked up at the moons which both struggled to peer their light through the clouds. The torches illuminated Whiterun as people continued to careen about the city creating a volley of silhouettes.

She sat at a bench underneath the weeping tree and stared up at it, feeling like she could relate to the tree—all alone and left to wither away.

The grass rustled behind Tacita as a priestess came and sat at the open seat next to her. "I couldn't help but notice you wearing an amulet of Kynareth, I happen to be a priestess of hers."

"Oh?" Tacita looked down and saw her necklace dangling out of her wool jacket. "Yeah, it belonged to my.. mother."

"An heirloom to remind you of a loved one? You must be far away from home."

Tacita nodded then clutched onto her necklace, taking a deep breath to stop her emotions from festering.

"What brings you out here? Perhaps a new life? Grown too old for your family?"

"It's not that I _wanted_ to get away. I don't think I had a choice in the matter."

"I see. I've learned that sometimes the best way forward is to distance yourself from those around you."

Tacita wondered if she should tell the woman her secret, about the murdering of her family. A priestess surely wouldn't judge as harshly as a commoner would, the connection with the Divines might even offer someway to redeem herself too. Her fear overcame her and she instead opted for a different question. "Are you by this tree because you're a Priestess of Kynareth?"

"Indeed. The temple by this tree is my charge. The Goddess' divine blessings have no doubt helped make Whiterun a thriving and prosperous city; bringing rain to the crops and fair weather." The priestess' smile comforted Tacita. "I don't see it as a coincidence that we've met. I am known as Danica Pure-Spring. I often pray to this tree here. It was called the Gildergreen. What of your name?"

"My name is Tacita. Do you know what's wrong with the Gildergreen? Why is it dying?"

"The Gildergreen used to be such a beautiful tree, an attraction for those all around Skyrim. They would come for a chance to hear the Goddess of nature's voice. yet it was stricken down by lightning, funny that. The war forced me to neglect my care for the tree, these days I'm more of a healer than a priestess." Danica got up and grabbed a dead leaf from the tree to crunch it between her fingers. "There's a severe lack of selfless warriors in this age we live in. But I believe that having warriors who won't just take any job is also a good thing, though what reward could you expect from a priestess besides a blessing from the Divine? Someday Kynareth will send a warrior, selfless and caring, I truly believe this." Danica stared up at the tree lost in her own thoughts, until Tacita got up from the bench, and Danica broke from her trance. "I'm sorry if I wasted your time rambling. I don't have much time to calmly talk to anybody. I should get back to the soldiers and make sure none of them have woken with pains." She headed back inside of Kynareth's temple, she smiled back as she closed the door.

Tacita decided to head out further into the city, she meandered around still debating if she should go back to Riverwood or not, it was hard to tell how much time she had wasted and she barely even knew where she was anymore. The streets turned into lonely roads as time passed with nothing but the barking of dogs reacting to her passing by. She eventually came upon a dual floored establishment that looked down on her from atop a hill. Its lights shined bright, and the loud cheers of people came from inside made it seem welcoming. She read the sign but the picture of a knighted horse holding a banner reading "_The Bannered Mare" _made Tacita confused on what the sign was trying to convey. Curiosity overtook her and she was getting tired of walking around; anywhere that didn't involve the rocks of a road would be nice to rest.

Tacita entered into a crowded warmly lit tavern where people were happily resting at tables and benches by a fire drinking ale. A bard played a song over the rambunctious ambiance of the tavern and the patrons even drunkenly joined in on his singing. Tacita felt overwhelmed at the amount of people crowding the place but noticed the bar had an open seat and found herself moving toward it, if anything—just to get off her feet.

A short woman with light brown hair scurried to the counter. "Welcome friend, the names Hulda. Need a drink or a room?" She said, adjusting her long locks from her face.

Tacita considered ordering a drink thinking it would make her look like she was comfortable being alone in Whiterun, but knew if she stayed up any longer she'd fall over on the counter. "I'll just take whatever room you've go-" Glass broke upon the floor from behind, Tacita turned to see what happened.

"Hey! Watch where you're stepping, Redguard! Have you lost your mind?" Shouted a tall, burly woman with ratty carrot colored hair and green eyes that her steel plate armor matched.

A hook nosed Redguard got close to the face of the woman "Who're you talking to? I'd have you hanging by your eyes sockets back in Hammerfell for talking to me like that!"

"Hey!" Hulda shouted. "Take it outside, I don't want to clean up any more blood in here!"

"What do you say then? Think you can go a round with me?" Hooknose spat.

The woman scoffed "You're not worth the effort." her plated boots clanked on the wood flooring as she moved to the back of the tavern.

Hooknose smiled as she walked past, he caught Tacita staring and she swiftly turned back to Hulda.

"Sorry you had to see that, dear. The Companions are recruiting new warriors and now I have a caravan of muscle heads running in and out of the place, it's nothing new, but a few broken chairs get on your nerves after the eleventh time. You said you need a room?"

Tacita gained an interest in The Companions once more hearing they were recruiting, a short burst of excitement slightly lifted her lips. "Yes, any kind will do."

"I don't have any normal rooms available, but I'll give you a deal and let you sleep in one of the VIP rooms for the base price."

Tacita agreed to the room having no mind to refuse a chance at VIP; any sort of luxury felt like a reward at this point. Hulda grabbed the keys from under the counter and led Tacita up a flight of stairs, the upper floor lit up with all sorts of regal decor from the rugs to the candles lining the walls. Hulda led to Tacita to the far end of the hall, when she opened the door the looked like it was fit for royalty. The walls were made of a white stone that made the various wooden furniture in the room look brand new, the fresh scent of lavender invited her inside, to the welcoming ruby curtains that wrapped around the bed which quickly became her favorite decoration.

"Enjoy your room. just let me know if you need anything."

After Hulda closed the door, Tacita went around opening all of the drawers and cabinets, not to see what's in them, but just to mess with them. She felt like a child relaxing in her old home again. Her moments of serenity didn't last long when she remembered that her old life was nothing but a dream now. She plopped down on the bed and looked around the room for a window but couldn't find any. The lack of a window brought her to a darker side of her mind. She remembered being locked away until the morning sun would shine beneath her door. Her father would unhook her chains and let her out of the room, where she would be able to enjoy time with her brother and mother before they left. She never knew where they went, and she would always be put back in her windowless room before they returned. Tacita held tight to her necklace and prayed to Kynareth for a safe rest until her eyes stayed shut and she drifted away to the muffled sounds of warriors partying downstairs.

When she awoke, the muffled shouting wasn't any quietly. She wasn't sure how much time had past, and she didn't want to stay in Whiterun too long. Gerdur was likely awaiting her return, Tacita assumed she'd be just as surprised to hear Einar was the Dragonborn as well. Tacita trudged downstairs and found that the tavern was covered in more warriors than the night before. They were all drinking and singing in good faith to their entry test to Jorrvaskr. Tacita sat at the bar but wasn't met by Hulda. In her place was a waitress looking busier than she should, struggling to take orders properly. Tacita took a moment to stare around the tavern to entertain the idea of what would be her competition if she ever decided to join the Companions. Everyone seemed ready to cut each others throats at a moment's notice, they looked as seasoned as she expected which dampened her mood. The lack of training Tacita had would put her at the bottom of any list in terms of fighting. The dead man that originally carried her sword would still be much more skilled than her. When alive the man was an imperial soldier, training everyday for the thing he died for, it made her realize that even a seasoned veteran could be taken down. She remembered Myrna displaying magical prowess that ignored any sort of armor or weapon, then wondered how easily Myrna could kill a Dragon with all of that power. The onslaught of thought were interrupted when the hook nosed redguard from last night came over and sat uncomfortably close to her. Hooknose turned his attention to her and she nervously tried acting like she didn't notice him eyeing her, his piercing gaze sent a chill through her body.

"You're one of them rich girls aren't ya?" Hooknose asked, breath soaked with ale. "Rich girl like you could use a warrior to keep her away from bandits, eh?"

"I think I'll do fine by myself actually." Tacita's shyly muttered.

"Bartender, a Black-Briar Mead for the lady!" The man shouted. "Skyrim's finest drink, for the finest Imperial I've met today."

The bartender scurried over, she nearly spilled the drink when she slid it across the bar had Hooknose not caught it. Tacita didn't even want to drink the beverage placed in front of her and tried to leave instead but Hooknose grabbed her arm so tight that his gauntlets dug into her skin.

"What's the rush?'Hooknosed asked after taking a swig of his own ale. "This mead doesn't come cheap this far from Riften. You wouldn't want me to waste my hard earned coin would you?"

Tacita slowly sat back in the seat afraid of what the man might do if she retorted. She kept her hand to her blade's hilt.

"High rock, to the Summerset isles themselves. Once I join The Companions I already know I'll be known all across Tamriel! So you stick by me and you can be a part of it."

"That sounds like a great offer, but one that wouldn't fit someone like me."

Hooknose's drunk happy face transformed into a scowl. He inched near Tacita, she pulled at her blade out of instinct but was saved by a familiar woman's voice.

"Can't you tell when a woman isn't interested?"

Hooknose turned to the woman and stared.

The carrot haired woman still adorned in her steel plated armor popped her neck. "Guess I _should_ have accepted your offer for a fight last night."

"I've been hoping you would reconsider." Hooknose replied and stood up to meet her.

She was a few heads taller than him and Tacita found it interesting to see the woman staring down at him.

Hooknose threw his fist at the woman, and she took the full force of his fist to her face without flinching, blood flew across the room from Hooknose's gauntlet grinding on her cheek. The woman responded with a blow hard enough to knock the Hooknose out cold sending the tavern into a roar of cheers while the bartender sighed.

"I've been wanting to do that since he got here." The woman chuckled.

"You're bleeding really bad." Tacita said.

"This scratch? Please, I've gotten worse wounds fighting my own family."

"But that could scar."

"The heat of battle is the fire that forges the strongest blades."

Tacita tilted her head to the comment.

"It's an old Nord proverb. That, and a true Nord never misses a chance to test her worth."

The woman grabbed a rag from off the counter and pressed it to her wounded cheek.

"Thank you." Tacita stuttered out. "For stopping him."

"For shutting him up you mean. No problem, we don't need people like that in The Companions."

"You're with The Companions?"

"Not yet, but somebody like me? There's no way they could say no." The woman looked toward Tacita's hip. "You have a blade, an imperial blade at that. To walk around Skyrim with one shows that you have at least some form of courage, if not stupidity."

"Oh, it was given to me.." Tacita paused for a moment recalling Helgen. "A friend passed it down to me, that is."

"It's no good for protecting yourself if your not gonna to use it."

"I don't really know how to use it honestly, it's just intimidation at this point."

"Don't wait for a reason to use something you have. It'll be worthless by the time you get to it." The woman took a drink from the mead presented to Tacita. and wrinkled her nose "Black-Briar Mead is as bad as the heart of Maven herself, I prefer Honningbrew Mead. So then imperial, were you planning on joining The Companions?"

"Well, I've thought about it but they'd probably turn me away."

"What? Are you just going to stay in a tavern forever until something happens?" The woman placed her hand on Tacita's shoulder. "You need to have more confidence in yourself. Try making a choice on your own. If you don't believe in yourself nobody else will either."

"I guess that's true."

"It's entirely true! Hey, have you heard The Companions are holding a recruitment today?"

Tacita was confused by the question at first until she caught onto what the woman was doing. "I have heard—I think...um... we should try to join them today."

"That's the spirit! I'll drink to that idea!" She took a long swig of the Black-Briar mead and slammed it down on the table. "My name's Uthgerd by the way. Sorry it took so long to introduce myself. I was excited to be talking to somebody who doesn't care about flexing their muscles for once."

"My name's Tacita, it's a pleasure to meet you Uthgerd."

Tacita and Uthgerd continued to bond with each other, passing time quickly until The Companions were ready to meet their long awaited warriors. Tacita felt a confidence boost being around her new friend, similar to how she felt when she was with Einar. She wanted to learn from Uthgerd instead of taking a backseat, Uthgerd was even actively trying to get Tacita to be more proactive instead of the passive stance she's been taking. The warriors from all over Tamriel traveled so far to get here, for fame or fortune it didn't matter to them. With so many people coming to Skyrim, Tacita wondered how much hold the Thalmor truly had on Tamriel, Whiterun seemed completely untouched by a Civil War and she hasn't heard much talk about the Thalmor either.

Uthgerd led Tacita around the bustling streets as they headed to Jorrvaskr. The two were far ahead of the other warriors, and Tacita could hear them talking about her. She felt incredibly small compared to the other candidates and Uthgerd was the only other woman around. Since Uthgerd didn't seem concerned, Tacita tried to reciprocate her demeanor as they led the group across Whiterun. The crowd huddled around the upturned ship of Jorrvaskr and after a few short minutes of waiting, two men came out. An elderly man that wore a long red cape halted at the steps, the shade covered the features on his face. The other man continued down to greet the gathering of warriors. His black hair was a pulled together behind his back, he had enormous bags under his lifeless gray eyes as if he didn't know what sleep was. Tacita stared intently at the many wolf sigils that decorated the two men's armor, she didn't get a good look earlier and seeing it up close made her want to wear the armor herself.

"Alright, here's how this is gonna work." The man began, his voice loud enough to leave a contrasting first impression. "My name is Vilkas and we already have a problem: there's way too many of you here for a combat challenge so I'll need you all to prove to us that you're worth trying out. I'll be choosing candidates based on what you bring me I don't care if you guys pull a team effort as long as the team has something to show me. Go out and hunt me something good and I'll let you try out in the second trial. You've got _five days. _I might make exceptions for some of you, just don't bring me something stupid if you gotta take forever."

"Hey hold on, so we have to hunt something _you_ find special and still have to fight to prove ourselves all in five days?" One of the warriors objected.

"That's right, I've had people try to bring me things they found at stores in the past. A kid tried to say he killed fifteen skeevers at once. Afterwards they couldn't even take my weakest punch without crying out for mercy. I don't have patience for somebody who can't even look a mudcrab in the eyes. You're all dismissed." Vilkas walked back inside of the ship with the elderly man close behind.

Uthgerd snorted. "What a load of garbage!"

While the rest of the warriors reveled in their anger, Tacita felt a different emotion. Vilkas said he didn't care about a team effort and she was ready to run with that idea to its fullest.

"Hey Uthgerd!" Tacita excitedly called. "He said we could team up, I might have a for sure way in then! I know just the place we can go! We have _five days_, that should be enough as long as we're quick!"

"So now you're all about making plans, huh?" Uthgerd jested.

"Yes, this one will work, we're going to restore Whiterun's Gildergreen."

"What will restoring a tree do for us?"

"There's bound to be a ton of things to hunt while we're out doing this, we'll help Whiterun _and_ ensure our spot in The Companions!"

"Ya know what? You may have a point. We'll have some free renown, as well as complete the first trail for The Companions. You've got yourself a partner, imperial. Show me the way to what I'm killing!"

Uthgerd's large smile prompted Tacita to mimic her emotion and the two headed off meet with Danica.


	7. Chapter 7: Through the Eyes of Rats

Farrell

"DOH-VAH-KIIN!" A boy named Tobarik shouted out into the muggy air of Riften.

The screaming children of the orphanage put a sour mood onto Farrell which was already dampened by the rainy day. The sound of pattering feet echoed as children chased each other like cats and dogs. Farrell hid under the awning of the orphanage laying atop a short stone wall. In an attempt to ignore the cooing of children, he focused on his knife. His fingers ran through the glowing red ridges of a charcoal colored Daedric Dagger, it was just as sharp as when he had first gotten it.

"I am the Dragonborn I accept the call!" Shouted a girl named Bodyni.

"The Dragonborn wouldn't be a snobby Dark Elf girl, dummy! He'd be a strong Nord, not afraid of any smelly giant lizards!" Tobarik teased.

"Yeah!" A boy named Scale-Tongue exclaimed . "And the Dragonborn has to be a man! Shouting wouldn't be as awesome if it was just a woman shouting. But how can the Dragonborn not have scales? He's a _Dragon_!"

"Farrell!" The children called in unison.

"Tell them that an elf can be the Dragonborn!" Bodyni wined

"An Argonian! it's the only thing that makes sense" said Scale-Tongue

Farrell sighed at the children. Being the eldest in the orphanage he was looked up to as the main influence. He liked feeling in charge, but he didn't like the constant barrage of questions he would get. He scratched his short brown hair thinking of an answer. "You need to have the blood of a Dragonborn to wear the Amulet of Kings. So they're most likely to be a man, not a mer."

Bodyni pouted at his response.

"The Dragonborn couldn't be an Argonian either, they only have the _soul _of a dragon, not the appearance."

Scale-Tongue crossed his arms.

"Haha! So that means the Dragonborn _has_ to be a Nord! Like you and me, Farrell!"

"Actually, that's not true either. The Amulet of Kings was for Cyrodillic Emperors not Jarls and High Kings"

"No way! Don't forget the statues of Talos! He's a true Nord if I ever seen one"

"Talos was an Atmoran though, that's not even a Nordic name, he's from an old long dead race. And his son was an Imperial, so The Divine most likely favor Nede descendants, instead of the Atmora descendants."

"Then the Dragonborn will help take over Skyrim? Like the Imperials are."

"Most likely."

The children sombered out at Farrell's words. Constance Michel, the new Headmistress of the Honorhall Orphanage, came over to speak to the children. Farrell liked her much more than their old Headmistress Grelod the Kind—who was only kind by name. Constance Michel was tanned skinned and well kept in appearance. She would prefer Farrell to see her as a mother figure, but he still remembered his family too fondly for that. The memory of the Thalmor ripping them away to be murdered for the worship of Talos still vividly haunted him. They protected him making sure the Thalmor had no idea of his existence. Since that day, Farrell kept his parent's Amulet of Talos on wherever he went, perhaps to tempt fate—though he wasn't bold enough to proudly present it over his garments. He vehemently blamed Ulfric Stormcloak for the destruction of his family seven years ago. Were it not for him the worship of Talos wouldn't be so viciously interrupted, and his family would still be alive.

"Look at you, fifteen years old and still lounging about." Constance began reprimanding Farrell as usual. "Don't forget; come sixteen I can't keep taking care of you. I still have a spot held so you can start working here. That is, if you stop lazing around."

"No thanks. I'd rather not become an early father with twenty kids." Farrell responded.

"Well it's this or join the Stormcloaks. Your choice."

"I'd rather join the Imperials. And be the one to send my blade through Ulfric's throat."

"You hush your tone! What if somebody heard you talking like that? Ulfric would be the least of your concerns then!"

Farrell rolled his eyes and spun himself to his feet. Without saying anything else he walked into the downpour of rain. Farrell always disliked living in Riften, he couldn't to trust anybody he came across, especially with Maven-Black Briar controlling things. Jarl Laila barely even stood as an emblem of Riften against Maven's influence and wealth. The city set atop canals leading out to Lake Honrich, the edges of the city were called Dryside and housed most of Riften's residents. Plankside not only housed the Honorhall Orphange but the market, shops, fish hatcheries and the inns. Underneath Plankside were the Riften Canals, if you went too far along the canals you would find a few dead bodies floating near the bottom. The contrast from his life before Riften was still staggering to him. He was never rich by any means when he lived in the western mountains of Skyrim in Markarth. he never took his average wealth for granted, and respected his parents greatly. The scars of the Thalmor attack eight years ago still felt like only yesterday to him.

When Grelod the Kind was still operating the Orphanage, she refused to let anybody adopt the children. By he time Farrell had aged to 12 under her entrapment, Aventus Arentino, a boy only a couple years younger than Farrell, had gone out to request the Dark Brotherhood's services. The result was a Khajiit in white fur that came knocking on the door late one night. Farrell remembered the children being sent I bed early that night, and how much of a gentleman the Khajiit seemed before he stabbed Grelod through the chest with a Daedric dagger. The Khajiit gave Farrell the dagger afterward and told him to remember that day. Aventus never returned, Farrell believed he was either killed in the wild, or decided to stay at his old home in Windhelm. Farrell had been ready to leave the Orphanage since Aventus got out, he wanted to go with him but was convinced to stay to protect the other orphans from getting beaten too roughly by Grelod for not one, but two orphans escaping. Adventure was all he truly wanted, he read books to learn about all of Nirn, and to imagine himself away from the dull life that he was given. He would often daydream about becoming the Dragonborn himself, though he would never admit it to the other children. Hearing and feeling the Greybeards shake Skyrim was an experience that he was happy to have lived for, but he knew the Dragonborn and him would never cross paths so long as he was stuck in Riften. The Rift truly was the farthest away from any other Hold, the closest neighboring city being Eastmarch's Windhelm to the north, unless you counted the small villages of Ivarstead and Kynesgrove. Nobody hung around in The Rift for too long, Eastmarch would captivate people well before they even went far enough south. Even the Stormcloaks didn't like leaving Eastmarch unless Ulfric told them too.

Farrell headed off to the Marketplace. Though he never had money to really buy anything he'd ever want, he liked to browse through everything around him or attempt to listen to the jingling pockets of citizens waiting to make a purchase. Sometimes the shops would have objects or artifacts from different provinces in the world of Nirn, Farrell had a hobby of matching where everything might have come from based on appearance. He started eavesdropping on the conversation from a young nord woman standing at a market stall talking to a Dark Elf.

"Svana, I heard that Sibbi was put in jail. What happened?" The Dark Elf said.

Svana had a saddened look upon her face. "Oh.. Brand-Shei.. They say... well, they say he murdered someone. Something to do with Svidi."

"Come to think of it, I haven't seen Svidi in a while. Wait... he didn't..."

"No, it was Svidi's brother, Wulfur. She's in hiding now. Somewhere far from here I'd suspect."

"If he wasn't a Black-Briar, I'd march right over to the jail and teach Sibbi some manners... but then I suppose I'd end up like Wulfur."

"I don't know.. I need to go back to Haelga, she'll be annoyed if I stay on lunch too long."

The woman scurried off taking away Farrell's entertainment. He continued past the stalls until he noticed Brynjolf was setting up a stall of his own with bundles of potions. Brynjolf was sort of a mentor to Farrell and taught him many lessons about living on the streets of Riften. He often told Farrell he saw an abundance of potential in him. Farrell's fascination brought him toward the shop, the potions had no labels; only a reddish liquid settled inside.

"I'd be careful where I put my fingers lad, never know what might happen." Brynjolf's accent came out strongly, Farrell could tell that Brynjolf's parents used to live in Morrowind with the Dark Elves, the Nords there were much different than Skyrim's. "Might even get another burn scar around your other eye, this time it won't be from messing with elven magic. Although, the darkened skin does bring out the blue in your eyes."

Byrnjolf was one of the least intimidating people of Riften appearance-wise, but Farrell knew better. He was a conman through and through. He resembled Farrell in only his hair color. He had a soft jawline and was skinnier than the average Nord, he carried around a golden dagger that he claimed was Dwarven made, but Farrell wasn't sure if he could trust him on that. Farrell was gifted a fine set of clothing by him since he had grown well out of his old clothes, and Grelod wasn't giving him anything new anytime soon. The clothes used to be much baggier, gained a better fit now that Farrell had grown a few inches.

"What's in these vials?" Farrell asked.

"It's a powerful acid. Can melt through dragon's bone."

"You're a liar."

"The city's shortest pickpocket calling me a liar?"

"Dragons haven't even been around for more than four days, there's no way you've made anything to counter them this fast."

"That's part of the excitement, lad. Nobody knows anything about these beasts! The price is the allure of an unknown item, especially to the wealthy."

"So it's just another one of your scams for quick coins, like the Wisp Essence."

"That was a simple misunderstanding! Today's '_scam_' is for a good cause. I'm actually glad you're here today. You've been practicing your lock picking like I asked?"

"That and how to steal the locks to practice with in the first place."

"I knew you were a lad with a good head on his shoulders. That is if those books are teaching you anything. I've got your first job ready if you're up for it."

"It can't be that hard, nobody would expect a child."

"This one is more of a reverse action to what you're used to. You won't be pickpocketing, you'll instead be placing something into somebody's pocket. I'll make up a speech for these potions, and try to give you however much time you need to get the job done, just don't get caught."

"What exactly am I doing?"

"Simple... I'm going to cause a distraction and you're going to steal Madesi's silver ring from the strongbox under his stall. Once you have it, place it in Brand-Shei's pocket without him noticing."

"Since when were you concerned about other stalls?"

"There's someone that wants to see him put out of business permanently. That's all you need to know."

"As long as it gets me some money, I'm in."

"Then let's begin." Brynjolf moved underneath the sign of his stall and begins shouting. "Everyone! Everyone! Gather 'round! I have something amazing to show you that demands your attention!"

"Come on Brynjolf, what is it this time?" Brand-Shei said.

"Patience Brand-Shei, this is a rare opportunity and I wouldn't want you to get left out."

Brynjolf gave a slight head nod to Farrell to begin the task. The crowd moved to surround the square, making it easy to get behind Madesi's stall unnoticed. A small wooden sliding door stopped Farrell from entering the the stall's storage. He peered through the holes revealing the strongbox barely hidden amongst a variety of jewels and ingots.. Farrell pulled out one of the makeshift picks that Brynjolf had been making for him and easily picked the lock of the door. The clicks of the lockpick were hidden by the rain and the commotion of the crowd questioning the validity of Brynjolf's elixir which he was now claiming to be Falmerblood. The strongbox was much easier to pick than Farrell had imagined, if somebody from the crowd caught him they'd think he had a key ready from how simple it was. Underneath more expensive jewels and ingots Farrell had found the ring. He closed the door as casual as a thief could before pushing himself back into the crowd.

Brynjolf had said so much about the Elixir that people were actually considering to purchase it. Brand Shei was near the middle of the crowd, and Farrell pretended to be rudely pushing to the front while he swiftly planted the ring into the pocket of Brand-Shei. Brand-Shei gave a glare of anger at him but didn't seem to suspect a thing. Brynjolf saw Farrell pushing to the front of the crowd and began to end his speech.

"Well I see that my time is up, come back tomorrow if you wish to buy, I'll have plenty more for all of you to purchase, so long as you have the Twenty Septims in hand!"

The crowd moved away from Brynjolf's stall. Some in excitement, others in denial of the Elixir's validity.

"Did you get it done?" Brynjolf asked.

Farrell Smirked. "Sure did, easier than I expected."

"Looks like I chose the right person for the job." Brynjolf pulled out a few Septims from his pocket. "Your payment as promised."

Farrell took the coins in hand and lifted one up to look at it, it wasn't the first time Brynjolf had paid him, but he loved the sight of the gold everytime. On one side was the head of Tiber Septim himself with words swirling around the edges that read _The Empire is Law-The Law is Sacred._ The other side had the Empire's Sigil and read _Praise be Akatosh-and all the Divines._ Reading the passage all made Farrell frown everytime. _All but Talos,_ He always thought.

"The way things have been going around here it's a relief that our plan went off without a hitch." Brynjolf said.

Farrell put the Septims in his pocket. "Riften hasn't been a place where luck thrives."

"Certainly not, and that's double for my organization. I suppose that is just how it goes. Never mind that though. You did the job and without anybody realizing you did it. If you think you can handle it there's more where that came from."

"I don't have much time left at the orphanage. Any more coin for a roof over my head, I'll take."

"All right, then. Let's put that to the test. The group I represent has its home in the Ratway beneath the canals... a tavern called the Ragged Flagon. Get there in one piece and we'll see if you've really got what it takes."

Brynjolf walked off into the crowd and disappeared. Madesi was immediately in distress upon returning to his stall.

"No, no this isn't right! Where's my ring?" Madesi shouted.

Farrell's heart dropped from still being around the scene of this crime, he slowly started to move away.

"It was him!" A beggar cried out.

Farrell turned to see the beggar pointing at Brand-Shei.

"I saw him take the ring while ol' Brynjolf was talking his Elixir up!" The begger woman continued to accuse Brand-Shei.

"Brand-Shei?" Madesi said in confusion.

"Ridiculous!" Brand-Shei responded. "How could I have taken the ring? I was in the crowd the whole time!"

"Guards! Guards!" Madesi shouted.

A patrol of guards hurried around the marketplace. "What's the commotion about?"

"That man stole a ring from my stall!" Madesi said.

Brand-Shei moved nearer to Madesi and attempted to confront him but was stopped by the patrol.

"Turn out your pockets Brand-Shei." The Guard commanded.

"Of course I have no problem, I haven't stolen a thing in my life!" Brand-Shei emptied his pockets, pulling out a few Septims and soul-gems until he found the ring Farrell planted. "What's this ring? I've never owned this!"

"That's my ring! Guards have this man arrested!" Madesi ordered.

"This is insane I didn't steal anything! I never saw this ring before in my entire life!" Brand-Shei shouted.

The Guards pulled out their swords. "We can do this one of two ways. You can walk with me to the keep, or I drag your lifeless body, your choice."

"But..I... very well." Brand-Shei conceded and allowed the guards to bind his wrists to be hauled off to jail.

Farrell stood in disbelief at what he'd seen. He looked back at the beggar and who simply smiled before returning to her usual nagging for coin or food. Farrell quickly hurried out of the town square and headed for the canals of Plankside to get to The Ratway, which was a small network of sewer tunnels that ran beneath the city. Farrell had often played inside them with the other orphanage kids before being scolded by Grelod the Kind and denied access there again. She also refused to let them go outside for several weeks afterward.

Heading past the alchemy shop and questionable looking people Farrell finally reached the sewer entrance. Upon entering a pungent smell of waste charged into Farrell's nose. He didn't remember the sewers smelling this bad, he put his sleeve to his nose trying to mask the smell, it only helped enough to make the trek slightly more bearable. The sewers reminded him more of catacombs. Torches lit the way, covered with skulls and mossy rocks. The corridors were only wide enough to fit a couple people shoulder to shoulder. Skeevers screeched and ran in response to to each echoing step he took. Farrell happened on a wide open space with a drawbridge pulled up from the other side. This obstacle forced him deeper down into the sewers, there was a severe lack of water even as he descended. A door with an obvious spear trap stood in his way from progressing further. He kicked the door and allowed the trap to unleash in front of him before it returned to its place. He continued on questioning if Brynjolf was hoping he'd even notice the trap at all. At times the corridors would open up into rooms that made it seem like the place was an underground manor. He had heard stories of insane criminals living in the Ratway, and their cries could be heard in the dead of night. He had had never been this far in and hoped that the insane lived deeper inside the sewer and nowhere near where he currently was, Farrell pulled out his dagger for comfort as he went on. Grated doors halted his descent, when he pushed against them they hollered out and became stuck in place to the point where Farrell had to force them open. The noise didn't call anything to him, but Farrell certainly waited for a response.

Eventually the sewers had opened to a collection of rooms, the first had a stump surrounded by roots falling from the ceiling with daylight from above illuminating down, allowing the rain-coated air to caress Farrell's nose. He breathed in heavily, but the smell of the sewers also drifted into his sinuses which made him gag.. An axe was embedded into the stump with splatters of blood covering it, a soaked basket laid beside. Farrell feared to look in the basket realizing he was examining a makeshift executioner's block. He hurried quickly to the next room which looked like it was a kitchen at one point but had long been abandoned, empty mugs by a keg and a book that told a story about thieves rested upon the table.

Farrell searched the various exits of the room, one led back to the other side of the drawbridge from before with a lever for it to his side, he pulled the lever In case he needed a quick escape. The bridge slammed down harder than he was expecting, and he thought it broke, but only a few wooden planks went flying. He rushed back to the abandoned kitchen to look through one more exit. The final exit led deeper into the sewer through a flight of stairs and a lonely door at the end. He assumed it must be what he was supposed to find; that is, if it didn't lead to the cells of the mentally ill as he feared. Farrell mustered up the courage to walk down and slowly opened the door. It was dark, and had a large pool of water resting under a shoddily made port. There was a faint bit of light in the room thanks to the various torches, though they casted shadows fit for all sorts of unknowns all around. The smell of the sewers nearly disappeared as he moved alongside the underground lake. A sign was illuminated by the light, two swords behind a beer mug that read _Ragged Flagon._

"Give it up_, Brynjolf." _A man's voice called.

Farrell hid behind nearby crates and peered over to see three men relaxing at a bar. Just as the man said Brynjolf was among them wearing dark leather armor instead of his lavish garments from before.

"Those days are over" the man that managed the bar continued.

"I'm telling you, Vekel. This one is different." Brynjolf responded

"We've all heard that one before Bryn! Quit kidding yourself." A man with thick sideburns said.

Vekel shook his head as he cleaned a mug. "Dirge is right, it's time to face the truth, old friend. You, Vex, Mercer... you're all part of a dying breed. Things are changing!"

Farrell could tell they were talking about him, and pushed away the fear that they would kill him if he was caught. He sheathed his dagger and cautiously walked up to the group, Vekel was the first to notice and pointed at him. Brynjolf turned around and gave a sly smile.

"Dying breed eh? Well what do you call that then!" Brynjolf laughed out as Farrell approached. "Color me impressed lad. I wasn't certain you'd come!"

"Getting here wasn't too hard, just a strong smell." Farrell responded trying to sound composed.

"Reliable and headstrong, just as I've been teaching you. So now that I've whetted your appetite with that little scheme at the market, how about handling a few deadbeats for me?"

"Handling deadbeats?"

"They owe our organization some serious coin and they decided not to pay. I want you to explain to them the error of their ways."

"Hold on, I'm just a kid. There's no way they'd listen to me!"

"Don't worry yourself. They'll know exactly what organization you're representing when you use my name, they know we take care of our own."

"How do you expect me to handle this?"

"Honestly, the debt is secondary here. What's more important is that you get the message across that we aren't to be ignored. We already have scare tactics in place for our clients here."

"Who are the people I'm supposed to be going after?"

"First is Haelga, she runs a boarding house. She worships Dibella a bit precariously, any of her patrons can assist her in her 'worship'. Threaten to destroy her Dibellan statue and she'll cave quickly. Second is Bersi Honey-Hand, runs the most popular pawn store in Riften, threaten to break his precious Dwarven Urn and he'll be on his knees before you can lift a finger. If you have to; go ahead and break the thing anyway. Finally Keerava, owner of the Argnonian ran Inn; The Bee and Barb, she has a soft spot for her family, talk to Talen-Jei there to get her to pay up. They're well 'acquainted' if you catch my meaning_._"

"This all I have to do? And you think I'm fit for this job?"

"No doubts, show me you can flex some muscle too. Do this right and I can promise a permanent spot in our organization, you'll be out of that orphanage early. Good luck lad."

Brynjolf turned back to his bar-mates and resumed their conversation. They sounded shocked that Farrell found them as he left back into the Ratway. Remembering not only the smell, but that he lowered that drawbridge earlier for a quick exit out of the sewers. He continued out into the semi-fresh air from the lower quarters of Riften. He supposed the best place to start would be the closest; so he headed off into the Bee and Barb. He passed the Honorhall Oprhanage the kids were still playing outside, Constance Michel was most likely inside.. The Market calmed down and the people of Riften were back to their normal routines, Riften normal anyway. Off to the side of the Market was the Bee and Barb, a multi-storied inn, it's sign had a fishhook with a bee on it representing Riften's fish trade and honey farms. Quite the spectacle was happening in the commons area of the pub as Farrell walked inside.

"People of Riften, heed my words!" A shouting priest in red and green robes stood tall, arms raised to the roof. "The return of the dragons is not mere coincidence! This is one of the signs! The signs that Lady Mara is displeased with your constant inebriation! Put down your flagons filled with your vile liquids, and embrace the teachings of the handmaiden of Kyne!"

The silver scaled Argonian woman behind the counter placed her hand over her snout. "No, no, Maramal...We talked about this...Talen..."

"Keerava, certainly we can come to some sort of understanding?" Maramal begged. "These people must be made aware of the chaos they've sown."

A burly Argonian man with dark green scales walked up to Maramal. "Enough, Maramal. We've all heard of the dragons and their return. There's no need to use them as an excuse to harass our customers."

"Very well, Talen. I'll remove myself from this den of iniquity." Maramal tilted his head to the floor.

"We're not kicking you out, just keep the sermons at the temple and let us all sin in peace." Talen said as he directed Maramal to the door. He noticed Farrell standing around watching. "Welcome to the Bee and Barb. Finally come of age to drink have you, son?

"Are you Talon-Jei?"

"Yeah, that's me, what do you need?"

"I need to talk to Keerava. I heard she's been refusing to pay her debts."

"Her debts...? Oh, they're sending a kid to do their job now? That's pretty stupid of them. With the rumors going around about how poorly your Guild's been doing, Keerava's become much too bold, I'm not that foolish. The last thing I want is a war with your people."

"Then give me something to use as leverage for her so I don't have to go to any extremes." Farrell's voice hardened in a way he didn't even expect he could do. He felt strangely fit for this line work in that moment.

"Look, I'm only telling you this because I care for her. Don't mistake this as acceptance for what you do. Keerava has family just inside of Morrowind, if you mention you know about it she might just listen to you. Just please don't harm anyone, I couldn't bare the thought."

"I'll see if she'll listen before throwing that at her."

Farrell took a seat at the bar where Keerava was working. She turned to take his order in response. "What can I get yo-" she stopped herself and eyed him. "You look way too young to be sitting at the bar. You'll have to sit at a table, Talon-Jei will help you."

"I'm here to collect the debt you owe to Brynjolf."

"Brynjolf! I already told that buffoon I'm not paying your Guild a single coin!"

"I'm not leaving until I have what you owe."

"Look around you, I'm barely keeping this rathole together. The war's seen to that."

"I understand." Farrell pulled out his dagger and scratched into the wood of the bar. "We'll just have to pay a visit a certain farm in Morrowind for your debt." Farrell got up from his stool and pretended to head for the door.

"How could you possibly know about that?" Keerava rushed around the bar to halt his leave. "Please. My family means too much to me. Don't hurt them."

"If you have the coin ready then maybe I'll remove it from memory." He said as he tapped the dagger to his temple.

"Very well." She scurried to the back of the bar and pulled out a lockbox then poured as much coin from it into a small purse as she could. "Here. take this back to Brynjolf and tell him he'll have no more trouble from me."

Farrell copied Brynjolf's sly smile. "I'm glad we've seen eye to eye, make sure your payments are on time from now on."

He strutted out the Bee and Barb flipping his dagger. When the door closed a huge smile crossed his face and he took a look into the coinpurse to see it shining with Septims. He tied it back up and headed off to The Pawned Prawn down the alley past the Bee and Barb. He opened the door to the shop keep and his wife arguing.

"You keep giving and giving Bersi, and they'll keep taking and taking." The woman said. "When is it going to end?"

"What would you have me do, Drifa?" Bersi's voice trembled. "Cross the Guild? Take them all on one by one?"

"You know I don't mean that. We need to find a way out of this. Perhaps talk to Laila…"

"Laila is as clueless as she is stupid. No. If anything's to be done about this, we have to deal with it ourselves." Bersi noticed Farrell standing in the doorway and wiped at his eyes. "Excuse that conversation you just heard." Drifa moved to a bookcase near the corner of the store. "Can I interest you in anything today son?"

"Yeah, actually." Farrell leaned onto the counter. "I have a message from Brynjolf."

"For the love of Talos!" Bersi shouted pounding his fist. "Brynjolf would rather send a child than to show up himself now, eh? What's this message?"

"Simple. You don't pay, bad things happen."

"Petty threats and fist waving are not going to sway me. You people are all talk, and everyone knows it! Pay you to protect me? You can't even protect yourselves!"

"I wouldn't worry about us being able to protect ourselves."

"Don't fool yourself. It's only a matter of time before your people are run out of Riften. Now I have a lot to do, so I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

"Well... that is a problem." Farrell casually strolled about the store examining a few things before locking eyes with a Gold Plated Urn "Nice urn you've got here, I like it."

"That's Dwarven craftsmanship boy, you best keep away from it." Bersi slowly moved around the counter.

"Looks priceless, I doubt you'd be able to find another... should something happen to it."

"You wouldn't dare."

Farrell placed his palm across the side.

"Stop!"

"Oops." Farrell chuckled as the decoration smashed onto the floor. Drifa screamed at the sound of it breaking.

"That urn was worth more than tire whole life kid!" Bersi stormed up to Farrell.

"How clumsy of me. What's a store without any items to sell, I see a few other items I _like _In here too."

"Just pay him, Bersi!" Drifa shouted.

"All right! All right! I get it I'll pay on time from now on. Just.. don't smash anything else." Bersi pulled a coin purse out of his pocket and tossed it at Farrell. "Here, take your gold and leave us in peace! Damn thieves."

Farrell smiled and left the store for the couple to continue their fight. The last on the list; Haelga, the Bunkhouse set itself up directly behind the Bee and Barb, further down the alleyway. When he neared the doors his heart dropped. A muscular Nord in steel armor with large pauldrons, black hair slicked back and pensive eyes. His name was Maul and everyone in Riften knew him as Maven Black-Briar's right hand man.

"You the new kid?" Maul asked.

"What?" Farrell said, trying not to make eye contact.

"I heard Brynjolf was scouting you for the Guild."

"Are you a part of the Guild?"

"I'm a part of everything Farrell, nothing gets past my ears in this City."

"Okay, I won't forget."

"You don't gotta act afraid. Anyway, Maven Black-Briar's in there. So don't piss her off.."

Farrell walked into Haelga's Bunkhouse. He was surprised Maul even knew his name. Maven really did have connections all over the city, Farrell didn't doubt it before, but seeing the truth in it was a different experience. True to Maul's word, Maven was inside the Bunkhouse, whatever she was here for it seemed serious.

"Haelga, I like you, so I'm only going to say this one time." Maven began. "If you ever try and 'practice the Dibellan arts' with Hemming again, I'll make sure that pretty little face loses its beauty."

"Your son wasn't protesting, Maven." Haelga said.

"Of course he wasn't you stupid whore; he's a man. Now I'm not going to warn you again. Is that clear?"

"Very well."

Maven's wrinkles were more evident the closer you were to her. Her medium length black hair was braided and pulled back trailing down to her hips, her clothes looked more expensive than Riften itself and her makeup looked professionally done. She seemed to size him up as she exited the Bunkhouse. Haelga didn't seem bothered by Maven's aggression, which could potentially be an oversight on her later on in life. The woman that talked to Brand-Shei at the market was still working, she walked up to Haelga with a broom in hand.

"Aunt Haelga, why do you... demean yourself with these people you barely know? They show no real love for you." Svana said.

"It's only a bit of fun. You're a lovely young thing. You should try it sometime."

"No! I'm saving myself for someone special. Someone who loves me dearly."

"You mean Sibbi? You must be joking! All he wants to do is bed you and be done with it. You may as well get it over with and let him."

"You're wrong! Sibbi and I are in love and you're just jealous!"

"I'm not jealous of a man put in jail for murder."

"He didn't kill anybody!" Svana stormed off from the store with tears in her eyes.

Haelga's attention shifted to Farrell. "If you're looking for a bed, this is the wrong place. The Bunkhouse is for the working man, not children."

"I don't need a room."

"Then what do you want? This isn't a place to loiter around."

"I have a message. From Byrnjolf, about a debt."

"Oh no, no no. I know who you are." Haelga threw herself away from the counter, grabbed her Statue of Dibella and hid it behind her back. "Terrorizing the establishments in this city! Please there's no need for that here. Message understood. Here, I even have the payment! Gold's all here! I'll count it for you if you like!" She struggled to open the drawers of her counter to get out her coin purse before sliding it to Farrell.

"No need for that, I'll be back if it's not anyway. The guild sends their regards."

Farrell happily walked out of the Inn. With this sense of power finally given to him, he continued his strut of glory back down to the Ragged Flagon where he awaited his official indoctrination into the Thieves Guild.


	8. Chapter 8: Wedding Bells

Jy'ma

The bards bickered amongst each other between rehearsals attempting to find ways to make themselves more noticeable for the wedding nearing its beginning. Jy'ma watched the primitive nature of the bards in Solitude's largest inn; The Winking Skeever. The bards fit the vain society that was Solitude. Asgeir Snow-Shod traveled from Riften to the far north to be with Vittoria Vicci, and their wedding brought a massive crowd. Solitude was already crowded, and the wedding only made the crowd larger, that didn't bother Jy'ma, he enjoyed the company of people. Solitude reminded Jy'ma of Cyrodiil's Imperial City; in the fact that many different societies met here and it was the capital of Skyrim where the High King Torygg resided. Though the High King was no longer around due to Ulfric's triumphant combat trial. Since the passing of the High King, his wife High Queen Elisif, had replaced him.

Jy'ma favored only one bard out of the many living in Solitude, a half-orc woman named Dezruth who was discriminated for her Orc heritage which showed more prominently than her other half. Long cherry colored hair, tanned skin with a hint of green, a soft human-like nose, and two long teeth protruding from her underbite, though not as sharp as a normal orc's teeth. She worked the bar when the Bard's College didn't allow her to sing, which was always.

"Excuse me, waitress." Jy'ma called as she passed by.

Dezruth turned to him and smiled. "Ah, the 'not suspicious' eye patched wearing 'honorary' cat of the public wedding." Her voice came out like silk, unlike the grovel of full-blooded Orcs.

"What a fine title you have graced me with. A pleasure to see you again."

"What can I get for you?"

"I have a request for a song. There was a bard in here with such a divine voice. I truly wish to hear them in a more isolated occasion."

Dezruth's smile turned to a slight frown. "Which bard are you making this request out to?"

"The bard who is asking the question."

Her face flustered "Me? I couldn't. I mean I shouldn't. Really. Viarmo said I'm not ready for public singing yet, and I don't even have a song ready to present."

"I believe that only you have the voice to sing at such an event as this, why do they not include you in their performances? I heard such a beautiful voice in the night. It would not be polite should a bard deny a request. I understand that the Orsimer woman sitting across the room is your mother. If not for me do it for her." Jy'ma placed a gold pouch onto the table.

Dezruth's eyes glistened at the coin when she opened it. "Um.. I"

"I believe your mother would enjoy to hear what true talent you have."

"If I took this what would you have me sing?"

"This one is aware the girl is quite fond of legends and myths. In honor of the recently dubbed Dragonborn, I believe a song about their arrival would be most fitting."

"I-I'll be right back."

"Take your time."

Dezruth scurried off to Viarmo, a rare tenderhearted High-Elf and head of the Bard's College. It was evident the gold enticed him to allow Dezruth to sing after she opened it to him. Viarmo headed over to the rest of the bards.

"Stop your instruments!" Viarmo said. "A fellow bard has received a specific request." The bards begrudgingly stopped performing their rehearsal songs. "Per honor of the White Khajiit. My lovely patrons, I present to you our newest member of the Bard's College- The fetching Half-Orc Half...um... Man; Dezruth!" He clapped for her as he backed off stage.

The crowd wasn't certain if they should clap for her yet so they only stared instead. Dezruth took the stage, bringing her own lute since no other member was stepping up to play for her. She sat upon the stool and nervously looked over the crowd. The tables around Jy'ma started to snicker at her. Another table commented on the hoarse voices of Orsimer and how brave she was to even try at all. She slowly began playing the lute. She became more calm as the notes played and the tavern hushed each other in response to her beginning. She finally started singing in a slowed somber tone.

"_**Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart.**_**I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes.****With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art.****Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes.****It's an end to the evil, of all Skyrim's foes.****Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes.****For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows.****You'll know, You'll know the Dragonborn's come."**

Jy'ma smiled at the performance, amidst the astonished crowd. Hearing Dezruth sing the tale of the Dragonborn reminded Jy'ma of the Black Dragon that attacked Helgen. He remembered heading off to appraise a strange amulet at the Thieves Guild given to him by his client; Amaund Motierre. The Amulet turned out to be an Amulet of the Elder Council from Cyrodill that he then sold to Delvin Mallory after escaping his capture at the hands of the Imperials. Had Jy'ma not been heading to Riften he wouldn't have gotten a hunger for blood halfway there, forcing him to stop at a camp of villagers to feed. The mishap set him back a couple days, but he had fully bounced back and was excited to attend a wedding. When Dezruth stopped playing the lute Jy'ma began clapping, which called for the rest of the tavern to join in, Dezruth covered her face in embarrassment.

"She should be singing for the wedding with a voice like that!" A man cheered.

"An excellent performance Dezruth, truly, bravo!" Viarmo clapped up onto the stage. The crowd's cheers turned into more requests for Dezruth.

"Sing Age of Aggression next!" A man shouted out.

"Age of Aggression?" A woman retorted. "It's Age of _Oppression_, you home stealing Imperial!"

"What are you on about it's always been Age of Aggression! You people are the ones who've changed it!"

"The song is about protecting our home! It's obvious you added that Thalmor loving nonsense in!"

"Nobody likes the Thalmor, and the Song has nothing to do with them! It's about keeping the peace throughout all of Tamriel, you can't have that without Skyrim!"

The Solitude bells tolled, stopping the small altercation, and announced that it was time to begin the wedding.

"Dezruth would love to accept all of your requests, but we must be heading to the wedding before we're all late!" Viarmo said as he rounded up the rest of the bards.

The bards scrambled to pack up their instruments and head out the door. The Winking Skeever emptied in a matter of minutes, Jy'ma caught a glimpse of Dezruth sighing as he left with the crowd. Solitude's immaculate bustling city of carriages, horses, and finely dressed noblemen and women, all rushed to get to Castle Dour's Courtyard. Jy'ma stuck to the sidelines calmly walking behind the growing crowd. He looked up along the castle walls to see the guards monitoring the people as they went under the castle gates. The Thalmor were also present, scowling down upon the citizens in disgust.

Jy'ma and the crowd slowly made their way into The Courtyard which was decorated beautifully by white flowers from all over Skyrim. Solitude's red, silver, and black wolf banner was used to line every piece of cloth, the carpet that was rolled out for the couple was accentuated by a white trim, pews lined up near and far facing the couple's throne which faced the crowd. The wedding was heavily guarded, as anticipated for Emperor Titus Mede II's cousin, Vittoria. Solitude's most heavily armored guards covered the wedding from top to bottom. The wedding was like a symbol of progress towards peace to those living in Skyrim. The bride, an Imperial from Solitude, and her groom, a wealthy Nord from Riften. Asgeir's whole family heavily supported the Stormcloaks. Vittoria Oversaw the East Empire Trading Company which handled the import and export trade from the Empire to Skyrim. Because of this, It served no surprise that the Snow-Shod family were making clear their hatred for the Empire, even in the Capital of Skyrim itself where the Empire reigned supreme. Jy'ma's ears perked up listening in on an oncoming verbal fight.

"Typical Imperial rot." Vulwulf Snow-Shod's voice carried harshly over the crowd of citizens. "You speak of Skyrim like you know the land, know its people. You're from Cyrodiil! You know nothing about us! Nothing!"

Alexia Vici scoffed at his attempts to antagonize her. "Oh, I know enough. I know those trouble-making Stormcloaks refuse to submit to Imperial authority. Such seditious behavior. Why it's treason!"

"And when the elves marched into your beloved Cyrodiil, and everyone took up arms against them, wasn't that treason? Against the Dominion? Huh?"

"Why that's not the same thing at all. The Dominion were invaders. Conquerors. We had to fight them, to preserve our own way of life."

"My point exactly."

Jy'ma enjoyed their banter but it was interrupted by an announcement that put everyone on their best behavior, Stormcloak or Imperial.

"All rise for High Queen Elisif!" One of the guards called out as a team of them escorted her into the courtyard.

The audience stood up to honor the High Queen. A gorgeous woman clearly not crafted to lead a war of any sort. She was more delicate than the usual Nord, fair skinned and luscious amber locks. Red and gold robes locked between bits of armor covered her body accented by a shawl baring the Empire's dragon sigil, a circlet rested on her head encrusted with rubies. By appearance alone, Jy'ma felt it was the more logical scenario that she would side with the Empire. He had little faith in the Stormcloak army, especially those against the newly brought in forces of General Tullius. He had even less faith after being captured by the Empire himself, though who won the war mattered little to him.

"A marriage of both love and political advantage, a rare sight I could not miss." Lady Elisif said to the crowd before moving along.

The Queen had her own seat far away from the audience, whether or not it was to remove attention from her, it was hard for most to not notice such a powerful figure nearby. The door that led into the Temple of the Divines opened from behind the crowd, everyone stared back to watch High Priest Rorlund walk down the runway. The wedding was finally underway. The Bards began playing their rehearsed songs that mostly everyone knew by heart at this point. Rorlund ordered Asgeir to walk down the aisle, A large white shawl covered his black and red robes, his blonde hair was kept braided behind his head. When Rorlund called for Vittoria Vici, the faces of both parties lit up to her. She wore a red and white gown that hung by her feet, and her black hair was accented by a floral crown of gold. When they met at the end of the aisle the two took their seats holding another's hand. The patrons to the wedding all rose to deliver their gifts to the couple. Jy'ma moved with the crowd and pulled out his own gift from his robe. He patiently waited until he was next in line and approached the two with a smile.

"This one has a gift for the groom." Jy'ma said.

"Well hand it here then Khajiit! I've felt slightly neglected here with Vittoria taking most of the gifts!" Asgeir teased.

"My friend, a Khajiit to say. I knew your sister Lilija when she was serving as a healer for the Stormcloaks. She was such a gentle woman, this war takes the best of us. I promised to give her a special brew from Elsweyr should we ever meet again. It would mean much to me if you would take it in her place." Jy'ma presented the concoction from a small rectangular vial, swishing the purple liquid inside.

"In honor of my sister absolutely. A friend of hers is a friend of mine!" He quickly gulped the whole bottle down in one go. "This taste is amazing!"

"Slow down your drinking for later, my dear." Vittoria chuckled.

"A Nord never knows when to stop drinking! What is your name, friend?" Asgeir asked.

"This one is referred to as Jy'ma." Jy'ma said bowing his head.

"Well Jy'ma, I'd say this may even rival Maven Black-Briar's mead if it were a proper ale. I dare to say I'd like another one should you have the time to make it. My sister would have loved it, thank you."

"No, thank you. Congratulations to the both of you. May you be bound until death."

"Come now! Anymore gifts?" Asgeir joyously shouted.

Many more guests brought gifts and food for the couple to share. Time trailed on as Jy'ma waited for the wedding to come to a close.

When the flow of presents ended Vittoria made a suggestion. "My love. I feel we should address the people before it gets late."

Asgeir cleared his throat. "Of course my dear. Let us go to address them from the balcony." He began to have coughing fit after getting up from his seat.

Vulwulf hurried to get water for his son. "Are you alright, boy?" He said as his son downed the drink. "You haven't gone soft on drinking already have you?"

"No. I'm fine. Damn this Solitude weather. No feeble change it seems." Asgeir breathed heavily.

"Let us not waste more time. You've had plenty tonight, save the rest for later." Vittoria urged.

"Of course. Let us be done with this."

The two hurried up to the balcony and came out overlooking the audience. Vittoria smiled and began addressing the guests.

"Honored guests. Good people of Solitude. Good friends and neighbors."

Asgeir pulled at his collar while Vittoria continued her speech.

"I just wanted to take this time to thank you all for being here. To thank you for sharing this wonderfully happy day with myself, and my new husband."

She turned to Asgeir and attempted to take his hand but he pulled away fast.

"Unhand me!" He shouted at her

"Asgeir, what's gotten into you?" Vittoria pulled back.

"Who are you?" He shouted in delusion.

"Your wife of course?" Vittoria attempted to grab him once more and he pushed her to the edge of the balcony. "Asgeir?"

Asgeir pulled out his blade and lunged it into the breast of Vittoria, her lifeless body flipped over the balcony and plopped onto the ground below. Screams from the crowd erupt at the sight, the guards pulled out their blades and began to charge up to the balcony but were stopped by a green scaled Argonian named Veezara.

"FOR THE GLORY OF ULFRIC STORMCLOAK!" He shouted as he began slashing at the party guests.

The guards quickly moved to protect Elisif and escorted her away from the Courtyard, pushing away citizens. The stampede of people that attempted to move away from Veezara resulted in many of them falling over and being trampled. The white flowers turned red, and the wedding became stained with the blood of the upper-class. Jy'ma calmly arose from his seat and silently walked away into the distressed crowd of Solitude, passing the enraged guards as they rushed to stop the Argonian.


	9. Chapter 9: Everlasting Knowledge

Myrna

The night's frigid air had no effect on Myrna's thanks to her vampiric blood. The violent push back of force by the winds, merely served to annoy her as she walked into the hard winded flurry. Myrna was already in disagreement with the deal. Opposite of the Nine Divine, otherwise known as the Aedra, were the Daedra. While there were only Nine Divine, there were sixteen Daedric princes. Hermaeus Mora, Myrna's new master, known as the Daedric Prince of fate, knowledge, and memory. Many chased his forbidden knowledge but lost their very souls to the realm that he controlled, known as Apocrypha. The twisted library had everything one could ever wish to learn, but forbidden knowledge came with a grand price. Myrna had no lust for such enlightenment, she only wanted answers to find her friend. But when you align yourself with the Daedra, they become a part of your world.

The wrap around Myrna's back was beginning to get bothersome, having to lug it around all this time, when the imperials took it from her she feared they'd keep the treasure. Inside the wrap was an offering that Hermaeus Mora requested of her. She didn't care for his reasoning nor his intentions, she needed information. Aside from this, she was also ordered to help a man named Septimus Signis, a brilliant but mad scholar that used to be aligned with the College of Winterhold where he researched the Elder Scrolls. After reading one of these very scrolls he was driven completely insane. Using a lexicon found in Alftand, an ancient Dwarven City, he sought out to reveal the secrets of a colossal lockbox hidden away in an outpost due north of Winterhold, the coldest city in Skyrim and home of the same college he left. The Outpost was a claustrophobic grotto hidden underneath tons of glaciers. Had Myrna not been directed by the Daedric Prince, she would never have found Septimus. Before being captured by the Stormcloaks, she was sent to retrieve multiple sources of blood from the different races inhabiting Skyrim, it would have been a perfect haul, retrieving blood in a war zone. Had it she not been captured by General Tullius' men, she'd have had her samples and hoped to be out of Hermaeous Mora's grasp.

Septimus was inside the Grotto muttering while rubbing the Lockbox against his face. He didn't stop when Myrna entered the room, instead he became more excited seeing her return.

"Your blood." Myrna said as she handed the vials to Septimus.

"Ah ya! Yes, yes exactly what I need." Septimus took the vials and stared intently at them comparing the amounts in each. "You didn't... drink any of it I assume?" Septimus started chuckling at his own joke. Though he stopped from Myrna's disinterested demeanor.

"If you honestly think I'm helping you out of the kindness of my heart, you're mistaken." Myrna said. "Let's get this over with already."

Septimus cleared his throat nervously. "Of course. Just a slight joke to build a relationship. Now then." He examined the vials to the moonlight shining into the frozen grotto. "Ah.. yes... I can almost... hear them... I feel their life energy! I will prepare the mixture immediately!"

"This experiment of yours had better work. if you wasted my time, I'll kill you."

"Yes yes, of course. Precious time to a vampire, a strange concept indeed." Septimus began rummaging through the various contraptions he brought into the grotto. As Myrna hoped he wouldn't, he began giving a monologue to himself. "The box contains the heart. The essence of a God. I have devoted my life to the Elder Scrolls, but their knowledge is a passing awareness when compared to the encompassing mind of divinity. The Dwemer were the last to touch it. It was thought to have been destroyed by the Nerevarine but our lord Hermaeus Mora told me otherwise. I thought there were no secrets left to know. Until I first spoke to him. He asks a price - to work his will. A few murders, some dissent spread, a plague or two. For the secrets I can endure. he brought me here. To the box. But he wouldn't reveal how to open it. Maddening. But now, now I-we-will finally reveal the secrets of the Dwemer locked away from time, the Elder Scrolls, the mysteries." Septimus rummaged faster giving slight chuckles here and there. "The sealing structure interlocks in the tiniest fractals. Dwemer blood can loose the hooks, but none alive remained to bear it. A panoply of their brethren gathered to form a facsimile. A trick. Something they didn't anticipate, no, not even them! The blood of Altmer, Bosmer, Dunmer, Falmer, and Orsimer. The elves still living provide the key." Septimus picked up a small golden device filled with gears and metallic vials of its own, he dubbed the contraption '_The Essence Extractor_' before continuing his ramblings as he poured the vials of blood inside. "Bear you hence this extractor! It will drink the fresh blood of elves."

With the device filled with blood, he lifted it to his chest and plunged the machine inside him grunting and laughing as the liquids poured into his body. Myrna cringed at the sight of him possibly sealing his own fate. The extractor fell to the ground leaving a small crack. A waterfall of blood poured out from Septimus. He stumbled over to the oversized lockbox and threw himself into it. The locking mechanism around the door began shifting and twirling its gears backwards. It collapsed into itself creating a tunnel that stretch into the depths of the glacier. Septimus sprinted inside tripping and rolling down to the center of the box. Myrna cautiously followed inside until the two happened upon a book that looked stitched together by various skins. The book sat on a pedestal, awaiting for the two to unveil its secrets. Septimus picked it up and opened it.

"What is this? It's just a book?" Septimus said as he roughly flipped through.

Myrna watched a green entity circle around Septimus and he began levitating. He laughed with glee spinning and rocking about as he attempted to read each page of the book.

"I can see." Septimus began. "The world beyond burns in my mind... it's... it's... marvelous!"

Septimus's laughing fit shifted into groans of pain, then cries of anguish as his body started to contort. Lightning crackled through his veins and his skin began boiling blue before he disintegrated into a pile of purple ashes that fluttered to the ground. A muffled noise sounded off as something in the distance entered the grotto behind Myrna, she felt it hover near her. When she paid it no mind it engulfed the lockbox in a black haze that blanketed the room in darkness, lighting only the book atop the pile of ashes in front of her.

"Good, you've found the Oghma Infinium!" The void's voice called from every direction around Myrna.

A dark green mass of tentacles protruded from every edge of the haze, the slimey noises they made as they slid across each other disgusted Myrna, but she knew she would not be allowed to leave until it was done talking to her. When you make a deal with a Daedric Prince you sign over yourself to them, and Myrna knew of this practice all too well for reasons she'd never share with anybody.

"I've done as you asked." Myrna said shifting her eyes around the room for a focus point in the tentacle covered cage. "Now fulfill your end of the bargain."

"Come, my champion." Hermeaus Mora said multiplying his voice with each word echoing off one another. "There's no need to rush knowledge."

"I am not your Champion, Daedra."

"Who do you think brought Septimus here?" Hermaeus Mora's Tentacles caressed Myrna's chin and slowly wrapped around her body, slithering into her coat as he continued his echoed whispers into her ears. "Who do you think protected you on your journey to open the box and loose my knowledge onto the world?"

"You have no control over what I do."

"Your free will is an illusion. Whether you acknowledge me or not will be your own business. But I will be in your mind forever." Another set of tentacles lifted the book from the ashes of Septimus and hovered it in front of Myrna's face. "Now you have the Oghma Infinium. It contains the knowledge of ages as revealed to Xarxes, my loyal servant. For hundreds of years it has been shut away from the world. Septimus was a useful tool for unleashing it. Now it is in your hands."

The Prince gently flipped through the pages forcing Myrna to stare at it. She tried to look away, anywhere else would have worked, but she was overwhelmed with anxiety, enchanted by Hermaeus Mora. Her eyes scanned through every random page, every symbol and letter, most of which she couldn't make out. Mora continued flipping through it, after a while Mynra felt as though the symbols were whispering to her and some of them even began to feel familiar as though she was beginning to understand them. Mora shut the book and slipped it into Myrna's satchel, snapping her out of the trance. The tentacles that glided across her skin tightened their grip.

"Astonishing isn't it? Such knowledge. A rush of power that formulates into your mind. You'll require these skills in your future. But be careful how long you place your mind inside the Oghma Infinium. Knowledge is a cruel mistress to any who seek to abuse it."

Myrna shook her head in an attempt to regain her mind. "I've done what you asked now tell me what I want to know. Or do you have something else for me to do?"

"I do have one small task left. Head to Windhelm and take a ferry to Solstheim, from there I will contact you once more. I shall give you the information that you seek, as promised."

"Fine then, but if you try anymore tricks our game is over."

"Of course it will be." He gave a low chuckle. "Farewell."

The Daedric Princes' Tentacles slowly slithered out from underneath her clothes, and the black haze faded away. The slime that Mora left on her bare skin stuck to her garments. She was disgusted with herself and of the Prince's powerful influence on her. She used to tell herself that she'd never make a deal with a Daedra again, but for the sake of finding her friend, she endured all of his actions and followed his every word no matter the command. Myrna had enough of the atmosphere around her and began heading out of the grotto. A powerful urge to read the book once more crept into her mind. She nearly took it out of her satchel but was able to snap herself out of the allure. She set out into the icy glaciers again and prepared to head off to Windhelm to reluctantly meet her master in Solstheim.


	10. Chapter 10: Pilgrims

Einar

"I didn't think Skyforge Steel would be so incredible." Einar said as he looked over the blade atop the Inn table. "It's like there's no resistance at all for a cut."

"And trading that old sword in for a shield was the right choice." Lydia said as she scarfed down the meat and eggs in front of her. "Should've got rid of that dagger too, you don't even use the thing."

"Tacita made the dagger, I just forgot to give it back to her."

"That Imperial girl? Well had I known she can work iron I would have said to keep her around for maintenance." Lydia continued chomping away at her breakfast. "Not sure if this inn's food can compete with that bear we hunted."

"We'll have a chance to test that if we travel through deep woods again." Einar took a drink of his mead. "You know, you're the best hunting partner I've ever had."

"Really? It's been a while for me. I used to hunt with Aela from the Companions. She's far better than I'll ever be. It's like she can sniff out each specific animal. she always somehow knew exactly where to look."

"You were with the Companions?"

"I've known Aela and her family since I was a young girl. She was destined to join the Companions since everyone in her family was a part of it. I joined The Companions with her for a time, until the Jarl requested us as housecarls. Aela didn't want to be tied down like that, but I took the opportunity. I didn't expect to be traveling all over Skyrim again though."

A bard began performing seemingly out of nowhere. The flute she played was decent enough to enjoy. Einar quickly picked up that she wasn't playing with her heart in the music. After she finished playing her first song, the innkeeper, Wilhelm, and her began talking to each other in a way that the Inn couldn't avoid overhearing.

"See, you're just as good as always! I think you should continue with your performances, Lynly." Wilhelm said.

"What's the point?" Lynly pouted. "I'm not very good, and the people are here to climb the mountain, not enjoy an upcoming bard"

"I think you play beautifully. It would be a shame if you stopped."

Lynly stared at her flute for a while before making her decision. "All right, Wilhelm. I suppose it's the least I can do for you."

The doors of the Inn burst open and the bard dropped her instrument. Two mercenaries, one bulky and one skinny, waltzed inside.

"Lynly Star-Sung!" The lead mercenary shouted. "Or should we say Svidi? We've finally found you."

The bard screamed and ran as far from the entrance as she could.

The mercenaries watched as she cowered away. "There's no use in trying to hide." The Skinny one said. "Even dyed your hair blonde to become a new woman did ya? No worries, your blood will wash the color back to black."

"Get away from me! Somebody help, please!" Svidi looked around the inn for anybody who would listen.

Lydia looked over at Einar. "Think we should do anything about this my Thane?"

"Yeah." Einar said, getting up from the bench. "I don't know what she's done, but like most, these mercenaries don't look like the honorable kind."

The mercenaries turned to them and smiled.

"Looks like we've got some fighters here." The bulky mercenary said. "Sorry Innkeep, we're about to bloody your floors."

The two mercenaries pulled out their weapons.

Einar lifted his sword from the table and unsheathed it. The light of the inn glistened blue off the blade. Lydia unsheathed her sword while trying to finish the remainder of her bread. The patrons of the inn removed themselves from the nearby tables and rushed to a corner.

Einar flung a plate at one of them by the flat of his blade, hitting the skinny mercenary in the face. Lydia moved in to knock him off his balance, the bulky mercenary tried stopping her with his axe, but was met with Einar's blade in response, the clang of the two weapons vibrated through Einar's arm. The skinny one was able to knock Lydia back into Einar but the two swiftly vaulted around the table. The bulky mercenary flipped the table aside, and tried to swing at Einar. He leapt backwards causing the mercenary to embed his axe in the Inn's pillar instead. The bulky mercenary lifted his arms to fight Einar—who lifted his arms in an attempt to block one of the bulky man's heavy arms. The arm flailed toward Einar and knocked him over a nearby table. Einar's sword fell out of his hands on the way down. The skinny mercenary seemingly came out of nowhere with his blade hurdling down, but Lydia clashed her sword with his before the blade could touch Einar's face. Einar was pulled up by the bulky man and was thrown against the wall. The mercenary ripped his axe out of the pillar and charged at Einar. Einar dove for his blade and rolled out of the way of the oncoming axe. He was able to slash at the mercenary's arm cutting through his flesh. The attack allowed Einar to pull himself back to his feet. The mercenary was wounded but refused to give up. He gave another charge at Einar, lifting his axe in the air with his unharmed arm. Einar was quick to react and sliced through mercenary's upper body, and killed him.

"Harald!" The skinny mercenary yelled.

Lydia knocked the skinny mercenary to his knees and slashed her blade at his neck

"I yield!" The mercenary lifted his arms and shouted.

Lydia paused herself just before the cut went through the mercenaries' neck. Blood trickled over her halted blade.

"Forget this. It's not worth dying over. I'll be back for the girl another time! And with more men."

Lydia followed his movements with her blade while he cautiously got up and left the Inn.

"The Black-Briars will hear about this!" He shouted then began sprinting down the road. "The Rift belongs to us!"

The customers of the Inn seemed more concerned than happy that the threat had been averted.

"The Black-Briars? What are they doing all the way out here?" some of the patrons said.

"I hope we're not all in trouble with them now!" they continued murmuring to each other.

Svidi ran up to Einar and Lydia. "Oh! Thank you! Thank you both!" She backed off and bowed to both of them. "Forgive me please, I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt."

Lydia smiled at her. "Well you did scream for help." She said, shoving the rest of the bread that she had been biting down on into her mouth. "Besides it was two on one, that wasn't a fair fight."

"Are you alright?" Einar asked.

Svidi shook her head. "No, not really. But I hopefully will be, now that you saved me."

."Why were these mercenaries chasing you? And why did they say the Black-Briars sent them? Isn't that a mead company?"

"Around Skyrim that might be what they're known for, but here in The Rift they're nothing but thugs. I knew I had to leave Riften, but I wasn't counting on Sibbi chasing me all the way to Ivarstead! You see, my brother was killed by him, and I was supposed to be married into the Black-Briar family. But I found out that Sibbi was unfaithful with a woman named Svana. I couldn't bare such betrayal and told my brother, but he wanted to take matters into his own hands. I knew Sibbi would come looking for me. I guess I'll have to keep traveling on, maybe staying in The Rift wasn't the best idea."

"You could always head north to Morthal if you want to remain hidden." Lydia added. "Nobody ever thinks about Hjaalmarch."

Svidi seemed to be considering the idea. "At this point anywhere far away from The Rift would be better. Anyway, thank you again. If you hadn't been here, I don't know what they'd have done."

"No problem, stay safe." Einar said.

Svidi ran to the innkeep where she began thanking him and apologizing even more.

"I think we've had enough excitement." Einar yawned. "Ready to head to High Hrothgar?"

"I've been prepared since we left Whiterun." Lydia said warmly. "Hey Innkeep! How much are we paying for the food?

"You stopped those men from wrecking my Inn worse than they would have. It's on the house, safe travels you two."

The duo thanked the Innkeep and left the inn to head toward the mountain pass. Ivarstead's warm colored trees swayed to the winds of the morning air. The nearby river roared into a waterfall as it fell into The Rift's waters. Ivarstead was filled with people, more people than there were places to live. When Einar and Lydia first arrived there weren't as many people as there were now. The crowd was heading toward the mountain that was connected by a bridge over the river. As Einar and Lydia crossed, a man called out to them from behind.

"Excuse me! I overheard that you two were heading up to High Hrothgar." The man had grey forming in his hair and was breathing heavily, having ran over. "My name is Klimmek. I've tried asking the other pilgrims but they all just wanted to go up and down the mountain as fast as possible. After seeing how strong you two fought against those mercenaries I was hoping you would hear me out."

"Hopefully you request won't be sending us in the opposite direction." Lydia said.

"Certainly not, it won't even hinder you. You see ever since the Greybeards called out for the Dragonborn, it's made Ivarstead the most popular, and crowded, tourist attraction. Only problem is everybody thinks they're the Dragonborn now."

Lydia looked back at Einar and he shrugged at her, it never crossed his mind that anybody else would try to answer the Greybeard's call.

"I'm getting way too old to be dropping off supplies, with so many people going up the mountain it takes longer than usual to get to the top." The man finally caught his breath and took off the sack of supplies on his back. "Would you mind doing the job for me? So long as you deliver it to the altar at High Hrothgar, you're done."

"Sounds easy enough, I'd be glad to help." Einar said as he took the sack. "I was called to speak to the Greybeards anyway."

"You and half of Skyrim, friend." Klimmek chuckled. "Way I see it; anybody who tries to take the walk is taking a big risk. I've been to the monastery many times, but I've never even laid eyes on one of the Greybeards. Not that I'd care to. Being masters of the Thu'um, they could kill you by uttering a single word. Well, not that they would. They seem peaceful, but I wouldn't want to provoke them. With all of these people heading up there, well."

Einar nodded his head and wrapped the sack around him. "Consider the supplies delivered."

"Oh, Thank you again! Good luck up there, you'll need it." Klimmek said before he ran off back to the Village.

Einar and Lydia turned and stared up from the base of the mountain. It was an enormous chunk of Nirn, and the highest peak in all of Tamriel. Jagged and chaotic in appearance, it looked more treacherous when he was standing underneath it as opposed to viewing from afar. It stretched so high that the peak was hidden from view. Einar never cared to stare at the mountain much, but being beneath it sent such a different feeling through him. He felt a tightness in his chest at the thought of meeting the Greybeards and truly had no idea what to expect from them.

"The Snow Tower. Simply an awe-inspiring thing." Lydia began. "I used to constantly stare up at the Throat of the World when I was a little girl. My mother would tell me tales of a guardian dragon who lives at the top of the mountain watching over all of Skyrim. I knew it wasn't true because I would always stay up late at night failing to catch it flying around. As a child it was so wondrous to think about dragons. When you read about them they're anything but. The dragons that have come out now, I had hoped the stories were just telling lies to bring up the glory of the Nords, but they truly are the savage beasts the history books spoke of."

"I've never cared much for myths or legends." Einar said. "I've lived most of my life in Windhelm and moved to Kynesgrove shortly after I was old enough to be on my own."

"I guess we're just lucky to have never witnessed any legends. Come now _Dragonborn_, we had best be heading up."

The two reached into their bags and pulled out large fur padded cloaks. They covered themselves in the fur before starting up the mountain. The first set of steps were simple, no snow on the ground, not too cold either. Most of the steps had become eroded and collapsed into the mud, but the trail was still easy to follow. A large variety of animals roamed about the path from foxes and rabbits, to mountain goats. An abundance of foliage made the first bit of the journey a pleasant experience, they eventually came across the hopeful Dragonborn pilgrims again, making the climb much less lonely as various families and friends spoke among each other. As the view from Ivarstead began thinning, so did the cool air from the base of the mountain. The sky darkened as clouds formed above, like the mountain was warding off unworthy travelers. The available steps became slippery from oncoming rain and the mud started to get harder to grip into. Einar and Lydia readjusted their cloaks to shield themselves from the dampening weather. Many of the pilgrims turned around telling their party the climb wasn't worth the risk, they prayed at one of the many shrines that dotted the mountain before leaving. Even those that seemed the most invested in the climb sowed doubts in themselves and turned back down. Before long the rain switched between water and flakes as the ground became littered in white. Snow formed around the steps and hid the grass that once crunched beneath their feet, the trees were covered in leaves of icicles and the steps were too dangerous to even try walking on. Most people carefully went around the edges of steps, hoping they didn't slip off the mountain. More pilgrims began backing out as the weather worsened, and the crowd of people thinned quickly. Soon it was only Einar and Lydia left traveling upward through a relentless snowstorm while the rest continued opposite of them.

The winds were powerful and mist covered their view making it harder to even tell if they were about to walk off the mountain. It was no longer an option to even go around the steps as they would surely slide right off the mountain with nothing to grip onto. The two carefully shimmied up the steps, at times the mountain would lead to steep hills that would make the two trip over each other, and then have to climb upwards again to keep on the near invisible trail. Hours passed as the two continued traveling, a final steep filled with steps led to an abnormally large clearing with a faint light. Einar and Lydia kept traveling toward it and heard people shouting at each other.

"...And that's why we never should have come out here! Now we have no gold and barely any food left!" A man's voice trailed over the powerful knocking winds like it was making them. "We never should have left The Reach! You are all aware that only one of us could be the Dragonborn—if any of us even are!"

"You're free to take a walk back anytime, Qusay." An older woman said. Her gaze drifted to Einar and Lydia. "It looks like we're not the only ones mad enough to travel this high up."

The travelers were all huddled close together in a circle, six people all wrapped up as much as they could, attempting to make use of a dying fire. The elderly woman was a Nord, she wore a fur shawl with a hood that protected her face. She was hunched over, supporting herself with a staff as she walked near them.

Lydia bent over to meet eyes with her. "Are you guys alright? You're all trying to prove you're the Dragonborn, right?"

The old woman laughed. "Not all of us are crazy enough to think we're blessed by the Gods. We came from Karthwasten. We all heard the call of the Greybeards, anyone who had ears heard it. But not many people from our village wanted to come. My name is Hellevi. I'm leading these younglings on their pilgrimage, I was the only one who traveled up the 7,000 steps before. The snow has blown over most of the mountain so it's easy to get stuck."

"That's kind of you to help them, are you sure that you'll be okay though?" Lydia asked.

"Oh don't you worry about me. I may be old, but I'm still a Nord, young lady!" Hellevi giggled.

"Hellevi, we don't need any more people traveling with us." A wood elf woman covered in a long dragging cloak came over. "If anybody else steals our food as 'payment' I'll be at them with a knife this time! My darling daughter Carael is going to starve up here!" She pointed toward two children, a very young girl wrapped up so tight you'd think she was just a ball of fur, and a teenage boy who was running the end of his bow through the snow. "The last group we joined wouldn't even wait for us to take a rest!"

"Einwen, You care more about that girl than your own son." Hellevi reprimanded "Dragging poor Daendring along to chase your fairy tale."

A Breton woman started squealing at the fire. "No, no! The fire's dying!"

A Redguard man knelt at the fire and covered the pathetic spark with snow. "Don't worry Aine, it was going to die eventually. We'll just have to wait until the men get back."

"I hope they get back soon, Qusay. We've been freezing up here for a while now."

Lydia moved near Einar to whisper. "These people seem more like they're suffering rather than enjoying the trip."

Einar whispered back. "They've come all this way already, should I just tell them I'm the Dragonborn?"

"Forgive me my Thane, I actually had a concern. If we continue going around telling everybody that you are the Dragonborn I fear the Thalmor may come after you."

"Then we'll present ourselves as harmless pilgrims. Maybe they'll give up like the rest did and turn back."

"Perhaps we can at least offer protection." Lydia said as she moved toward the band of survivors and knelt at the fire.

A shadowy figure approached through the fog and the party went on alert.

"Don't worry, it's just us!" A man's voice called out.

"Yaegar!" Aine called as she ran to the man.

Three other figures emerged from the mist with the Breton. an Orc and two Nordic Twins.

"About time you boys showed up!" Hellevi said.

"Oi you old Lass! next time we'll send you out to get wood in a blaring snowstorm!" One of the twins jested.

"And boy did we bring back some wood, the common scenery kind—Iced out and filled with despair." The Other twin added.

"Jary and Ralph were too busy trying to guess where the winds were coming from. Made me do all the work myself."

"Oh Murarz, don't be like that. At least we carried the wood!" Jary laughed.

"The tree rolled off the cliff, we barely have enough for one more fire." Murarz said.

The four piled the wood up where the old pit had been covered.

"A little bit of fire here Breton, if you got the strength for it still." Ralph requested.

Yaegar placed his hands around the wood and puffs of steam began forming, when he lifted his hand away from the bark they lit in unison. The camp huddled together around the new flame.

"I see we've got some visitors, what's your name lass?" Jary asked Lydia.

"Well my name is Lydia, and my antisocial friend back there is Einar. We're just like everyone else, answering the call of the Greybeards on a whim."

"What an engaging story. Hey lad! Join us by the fire, we don't bite!" Jary called. "Whatever would bite out here is most likely dead anyway, or frozen solid."

Einar reluctantly joined the group, kneeling in the snow to be warmed by the fire.

"You joined up here on a whim?" Einwen haughtily laughed. "Goodness girl, speak for yourself, my daughter is destined to be Dragonborn, you'll see!"

"Your daughter is barely 10 years old girl!" Murarz grunted. "I don't even know why you brought the poor thing up here!"

"Akatosh has answered us. We have proven to be above those savage Altmer." Einwen continued.

"High Elves the savages? That's rich!" Ralph laughed "Don't you Bosmer eat the dead after killing them?"

Jary and Ralph began laughing together at Einwen's disgusted face. She got up and trotted away in anger.

"Come Carael, Daendring." Einwen said "We're above such people. We don't need a traveling act to tell us who we are." She marched ahead of them without looking back.

"I'm not leaving the group." Daendring said. "If you want to freeze out there I'll let father know where to find you two."

"Fine then! If you must be stubborn than it shall be so, I will see you at the top of the mountain." Einwen stormed away and Carael imitated her mother's attitude following close behind her.

"Whatever, if you two want to keep playing pretend I won't stop you." Daendring muttered before going silent again.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go out alone!" Aine tried calling out.

"Leave them be." Hellevi said. "She'll realize her daughter is freezing and come running back to us. That girl has always been moody since she was a child. I'd swear she was raised by High Elves. It's ironic that she talks so negatively about them. Come, let us all relax by the fire."

Einar and Lydia settled with the group in a circle of warmth like beggars in a city.

"So what makes you think you're Dragonborn?" Ralph asked.

Einar froze at the question, pondering what excuse he could make up.

"We've both always been such great fighters, we were sure that at least one of us had to be Dragonborn." Lydia finally said.

"My husband Yaeger's family have always been such devoted followers of Talos." Aine said. "He's such a brave man, I'm certain he's the Dragonborn."

"Qusay wouldn't stop hounding me since word got out about Helgen." Murarz began. "He was telling me I was the Dragonborn long before the Greybeards called. When we did hear them shout out, Qusay was happy to tell me to go and meet them. I told him we'd be climbing a mountain, suddenly he was trying to convince me not to go."

"Suffice it to say, I regret feeding my own superstitions." Qusay said.

Murarz laughed. "I hauled him up here with me, told him he shouldn't back down on his instincts. Some coincidences are worth investigating."

"I didn't know Qusay was why you came." Jary said. "Well Ralph and me, we're twins if ya couldn't tell. We figured, either one of us could be Dragonborn. Only problem was, we can't tell the difference between each other's abilities, so we made a bet. I bet on him, and he bet on me. It's a win win."

"Right, and after that we all gathered up and Hellevi took us all in." Ralph said. "The old lady has stayed strong from The Reach all the way to here. She's been kind to us, but this mountain sure hasn't."

"What about the kid?" Lydia asked. "He doesn't seem like he came up here willingly."

"Of course I didn't." Daendring said. "My mother's a fool and thinks my sister is the Dragonborn, even though she's a child. If she were the Dragonborn we'd all be doomed to be slaughtered by dragons before she could do anything. I'm only here because my father is too sick to keep her out of trouble."

"Well, I think that's enough rest for all of us." Hellevi said, pushing herself up with her staff. "My bones are going to stiffen me in place if this weather doesn't."

"I hope Einwen and Carael are alright." Aine said.

"I'm sure they're fine dear." Yaegar said. "If Carael turns out to be the Dragonborn the Gods wouldn't let her die."

"They wouldn't let Carael die, but I think they'd make an exception for old Einwen." Ralph joked.

"I'd wager the snob is sitting just a bit away, waiting for us to come and rescue them like heroes in a book." Jary added. "I can already hear her whining. 'Why would you let me walk alone in the blizzard, what if I was killed by a dragon!'"

"Well let's not waste anymore time then." Murarz said. "Let's get our weapons and start trailing up."

Einar watched as the gang headed over to a crevice nearby and lifted out their weapons. He thought they were pretty well equipped for a band of villagers traveling up a mountain. Lydia beckoned Einar to lift himself up from the ground. He felt completely out of place walking with so many people around him. No telling what the mountain could hold in store for them, if anything at all. He told himself that he'd help them find Einwen and then reveal that he was the Dragonborn. He didn't want to bear the guilt of anything bad happening to these people. The Thalmor would have to momentarily become an afterthought to keep his conscious cleared.

"Hold up, looks like we've got something here." Murzarz said.

Einar and Murzarz moved to see what they were looking at. The mangled body of a person mauled by an animal was hanging from the mountain with a long trail of blood leading upwards.

Daendring rushed to the frozen corpse. "Whose body is that?" He said in distress.

"Oh goodness" Aine choked out. "Don't tell me that something got to Einwen."

Hellevi pushed up the head of the mauled body with her staff. "This one's not from our group. This body is old, judging by that disturbed snow close by, Einwen ran away when she saw the body. She's okay."

"Praise the Nine." Aine sighed in relief

"That woman really shouldn't have gone off on her own." Lydia said. "It's a mystery what could be living on this mountain."

"We're all excited to know which one of us could be the Dragonborn." Hellevi said. "One of us was bound to get impatient. There was a group that went ahead of us, nasty bunch. I wouldn't be surprised if this had something to do with them."

"I knew those guys gave a bad vibe!" Jary exhaled. "Who asks for extra food as payment for protection anyway? Oh man, now we're on the mountain with a bunch of murdering pilgrims!"

"These don't look like injuries a person could do." Einar said. "Unless they're using some sort of claw as a weapon."

"You're putting some terrible thoughts in my head." Ralph said. "I wouldn't put it past those people we met. I don't even want to think about what they're capable of. The day's still young. At least I think. I can't tell with all of this fog. Let's get moving before we end up like our friend Mangle here."

the group all agreed to press on.

"Granny Hellevi, how about you tell us a story?" Ralph requested. "Something to brighten the mood, and get our mind off this cold maybe."

"How about an uplifting story." Aine requested. "Daendring is certainly worried about his mother, even if he doesn't show it. Something to ease his mind would be good."

"If you all insist. Let us fit the mood with tales of Dragons then." Hellevi thought for a few moments before she began. "Before the birth of men, the Dragons ruled all Mundas. Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only for True Needs. For the Voice could blot out the sky and flood the land. Men were born and spread over the face of Mundus. The Dragons presided over the crawling masses. Men were weak then, and had no Voice. The fledgling spirits of Men were strong in Old Times, unafraid to war with Dragons and their Voices. But the Dragons only shouted them down and broke their hearts. Kyne called on Paarthurnax, who pitied Man; Together they taught Men to use the Voice; Then Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue. Man prevailed, shouting Alduin out of the world, proving for all that their Voice too was strong. Although their sacrifices were many-fold. With roaring Tongues, the Sky-Children conquer. Founding the First Empire with Sword and Voice whilst the Dragons withdrew from this World. The Tongues at Red Mountain went away humbled. Jurgen Windcaller began His Seven Year Meditation, to understand how Strong Voices could fail. Jurgen Windcaller chose silence and returned. The 17 disputants could not shout Him down. Jurgen the Calm built His home on the Throat of the World. For years all silent. The Greybeards spoke one name; Tiber Septim, stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar. They blessed and named him Dovahkiin."

"Is that it?" Ralph asked.

"That's it. For now. Until the next Dragonborn comes and destroys that Alduin for good."

Einar pondered on Hellevi's story, uncertain what his purpose was. He was much less certain of why he was chosen to be Dragonborn. Somebody who lacked a proper opinion on the Gods surely couldn't fit the role of a Divine being. Whatever reason he was chosen he hoped the Greybeards had the answers. Though he'd rather just live in Kynesgrove once more, he knew that he was given a duty to act on. He would have to learn to protect people like these who could not protect themselves from the dragons. There are many people that he'd choose to become the Dragonborn, the last choice wouldn't have even been him-fate had chosen him and he wasn't sure how to accept the call, he only knew that someone was waiting at the top of the mountain for _his_ arrival, and nobody else's.

A faint roar broke through the sky halting Einar's thoughts.

"What was that?" Qusay panicked. "Don't tell me it was one of those Dragons."

The group stood weapons ready. Aine, Daendring and Hellevi stood in the middle while the rest loosely circled around them and readied themselves for any kind of combat. The group looked around while slowly continuing through the mountain.

"I guess whatever it was is gone now." Jary said as he sheathed his weapon. "Let's just hurry up from this place. I'm starting to get a tad bit anxio-." Before Jary finished his sentence, a large beast pounced down from up high, flattening him in place. The hulking humanoid had three eyes, massive clawed arms, razor sharp teeth, and was covered in white hair. Einar recognized the beast as a frost troll. It stood on top of Jary's body staring at the party intently. The troll let out a roar inciting a challenge.

"Jary!" Ralph yelped and charged at the troll.

Murarz tried to stop him but it was too late and Ralph was flung away like a toy, Einar heard him land but couldn't tell if he hit on flat ground or the side of the mountain and tumbled down.

"We've got no choice but to fight." Murarz said. "We'll have to overwhelm this thing if we want to live. Once it decides we're pray there's no turning back."

The troll paced around a bit grunting and sniffling. Einar assumed it must be waiting for them to back down, when none of them did it angered the troll. It roared at them and Yaegar flinched, that flinch was all the troll needed to start running straight for him. Qusay tried to stop it from getting to Yaegar but his sword only managed to leave a small cut on the troll, in response it picked up Qusay with both arms and began pulling him at opposite ends of his body. Murarz charged the troll, hitting its face with his warhammer and Qusay was released. Yaegar tossed a fire spell at the troll and singed hair off of its arm that left a large burn mark. Einar and Lydia both charged behind the troll while Murarz continued to attack it with his hammer, the troll's arm was strong enough to parry the blows as if it too was a hammer. Lydia ran the first strike to one of the troll's legs and Einar committed to the other side. They left a good mark on the troll and it was clearly staggered from the attack. Murarz was hit hard by the troll's claws, which slashed through his stomach and made him drop quickly into the newly reddened snow.

An arrow pierced one of the troll's eyes and it roared in pain. Einar looked to see who shot and saw Daendring holding his small, but efficient, bow. Qusay was wounded but still holding up decently. Another fire spell came hurtling at the troll hitting it straight in the face. The troll pounded on the ground in a fit and charged at Yaegar. Einar and Lydia tried to catch up with the troll but couldn't match it's speed. Yaegar was pinned against the mountain wall, a shard of the mountain pierced through his abdomen. Lydia's sword fell across the back of the troll. It turned and hit her sending her across the mountain. Qusay and Einar were the only two still standing to face the troll.

Qusay's wounds needed to be treated, but he refused to give up. The troll was burnt and slashed; it was aware that it was losing. It sent large puffs of heat through its nostrils as it once again paced around letting out slight whines of pain from walking. The troll suddenly charged at the two, Einar lifted his shield and tried to stop him. When they crashed into each other Einar fell onto his back. The troll was quick to mount him, and ignored Qusay's oncoming blow to its shoulder. The troll was about to pound Einar into the ground when it gave out a howl of pain and its arms flew up. As it spun around Einar saw Ralph latched onto the troll's back, stabbing its head repeatedly with his dagger. Ralph gave it one last cut and stuck his dagger in deep. He pulled the blade downward to split the troll's skull open. The hulking carcass fell backwards onto Ralph. He yelled out in pain as the weight of the troll crushed him. Einar and Qusay tried to push the troll off him but could barely budge the beast.

"That was.. for my brother." Ralph said. Within seconds his body went limp.

Qusay gripped at his sides and groaned. He was covered in blood from the troll lifting him up earlier, Hellevi came over to help him. Aine was crying by the severed body of Yaegar, Daendring looked on at the group. Murarz was lying face down by the flattened corpse of Jary. Einar struggled to move over to Lydia, she was bleeding badly.

"Don't worry." Lydia said as she turned over. "It's nothing too serious, just my arm." Blood covered her face, and her arm was heavily bruised.

Einar helped her to her feet and they moved to group up with those left alive.

"Einar.." Lydia whispered. "It's probably a good thing that we didn't go up alone. But I hope they forgive us for keeping it a secret after this."

Einar set Lydia nearby Hellevi to have her tend to her wounds too. Aine was still by herself holding onto Yaegar.

"Aine, you need to get away from his body." Hellevi called.

Aine didn't answer.

"Looking at him won't do you any good, girl." Hellevi continued.

Aine took a moment to look away from the body. She kissed her deceased husband on his forehead and walked toward the group.

"Come sit by me, dear." Hellevi said.

Aine continued to walk straight past. Einar watched her as she moved, her expression was empty. Tear streaks revealed the dirt that covered her face. She walked to the edge of the mountain and without a second thought, threw herself over. The only sound made from her was the sound of her body hitting the rocks on the way down. The group had no words to say about Aine. They sat together in silence while Hellevi bandaged Lydia and Qusay. Einar stared at the blood dyed snow around them. After what seemed like forever the silence was broken.

"I knew we never should have come up here." Qusay said. "None of us are the Dragonborn. That's clear now. Everybody we thought was the Dragonborn is dead. This was a stupid idea."

"We all knew the risk of coming up here, Qusay." Hellevi said. "Don't beat yourself up for anything that's happened now."

"My Mother and sister are still out there on this mountain somewhere." Daendring said. "I have to find her. I can't go back until I do."

"You're right kid." Qusay forced himself up, to get near Daendring. "We'll get them back, and we're getting off this mountain. If anything else wants to attack us on the way up, that'll be it for us though. What about you Einar, Lydia? You two had enough?"

"No." Einar said. "I came this far. I'm not going to turn back until I figure out what I want to know."

Qusay chuckled. "Guess the hope hasn't died in all of us just yet. Alright then. Let's go get the kid's mother back."

The group helped each other to their feet and slowly trudged up the mountain once more in silence. Almost an hour later, Daendring noticed footprints in the snow.

"These must be my mother's!" He exclaimed. "Come on! These are new, the snow hasn't blown them over yet!" Daendring ran quickly ahead of the group.

"Hey! Daendring!" Qusay shouted. "Don't go too far ahead we don't know whose footprints these are!" Qusay spat at the ground in frustration.

Einar ran to catch up with Daendring, when he turned the corner of the mountain there were four men standing around beating a woman.

"Mother!" Daendring yelled, he pulled out a knife and charged at the men.

One of the bandits knocked Danedring over and pulled him up by his collar. "Looks like the elf does have another child after all. Too bad he's not a little older."

"Let my son go!" Einwen yelled before being hit again.

Einar walked up to the men with his sword drawn, his body still ached from the fight with the troll. "Let them go."

Lydia caught up with Einar and tried to unsheathed her blade, but her arm restricted her. Hellevi and Qusay trailed behind. The lead bandit handed Daendring over to his gang and approached Einar.

"Listen. This isn't anything you need to involve yourself with. We climbed the mountain with these guys, you see. The whole way up this elf wouldn't stop going on and on about how divine her daughter was. We're just a few guys who offered our services to protect the pilgrims as they climbed up."

"These bandits killed my Carael!" Einwen shrieked. "They killed my daughter! They laughed and said if she's the Dragonborn then she should prove that she can fly like one. Then these bastards tossed her right off the mountain! Savages the lot of you!"

"Shut up whore!" The torturing bandit shouted and returned to mercilessly beating Einwen.

"Leave the woman alone, or I'm going to have to force you to." Einar interjected.

"Whoa, whoa whoa." The lead bandit said. "You don't want to do anything brash now. You see. We kind of have the boy and the woman here, if you were to say; use that sword of yours to try and kill me. All your friends would fall quicker than you could save them. I say we make a deal. You let us at least have the brat and the woman. We let you go and be disappointed about not being the Dragonborn."

"I won't warn you again."

"Don't say we didn't try to be nice." The man turned to his group. "Alright boys, you heard the man! The lives of the elves are forfeit, and his is next."

One of the bandits grabbed onto Daendring and brought his blade to his neck preparing to slit his throat. Einar inhaled deeply, the storm of the mountain quickly entered into his lungs. With all the strength he could muster he bellowed out his shout. "FUS!" The storm formed into tunneled air and flew into the lead bandit.

The man lost his footing from the wind hurdling at him and slipped off of the mountain, he grabbed onto another bandit from the shock and they both plummeted down. Daendring elbowed the man holding him captive making him drop his dagger. Einwen pushed herself up and grabbed Daendring's arm and pulled him behind Einar. The two bandits waveringly prepared to face Einar. Einar walked up to them and they tossed their weapons to his feet. Einar's anger overcame him and he didn't bother to spare the two, he grabbed them by the collar of their armor and sent them both down the side of the mountain after their leader. He turned to the pilgrims and they didn't seem sure if they should trust Einar anymore.

"You're the Dragonborn." Hellevi finally spoke.

"So the journey wasn't for nothing after all." Qusay said. "I guess that's it then. Gods always do reveal themselves at the last possible moment. Divine justice to them." Qusay's voice was congratulatory, but his eyes showed a heavy sadness. "Good luck to you, Dragonborn."

Qusay and the rest of the group began their decent back to Ivarstead without another word. Lydia and Einar stared on as they left, he was overcome with a powerful guilt knowing he harmed so many people.


	11. Chapter 11: Where Voices are Heard

Einar

The remainder of the hike was done in silence. Einar wondered if Lydia thought any less of him for killing those bandits the way he did. She didn't seem to want to leave his side, but he felt their relationship might have been tainted. The two paused at the long stretch of steps presented in front of them. They stared up at a large blackened monastery embedded into the side of the mountain. The base was lined with various sacks and an old beaten up stone chest with the lock broken off.

"High Hrothgar." Lydia said, "The highest point in all of Tamriel." She looked to a Shrine between the steps. "I don't suppose you have Klimmek's offerings still?"

Einar reached underneath his coat and untied the bag of supplies. The contents were completely damaged from the fight with the troll. "Doesn't look like we'll be delivering this in peak condition." Einar said.

"I doubt they'll mind. They don't leave the place so any condition on the supplies probably wouldn't bother them." Lydia took the bag of offerings and tossed it near the unlocked chest. "We've got more important things to attend to, like the Greybeards. I'm sure they're just as eager to meet you."

The two climbed up the flight of stairs and opened the large iron doors to enter High Hrothgar. Fires stoked, a smell of incense filled the foyer of the castle, it was warm inside, dreary decor with dark stones covered every inch of the castle. It truly made Einar feel like he was above the clouds and hours away from civilization. Four elderly men formed into the foyer. They all wore the same thick grey robes lined with fur on the inside, each had beards of grey and their eyes matched the dull coloration of not only the castle, but their garments. Though there were four men, only one of them greeted Einar.

"So... a Dragonborn, at this moment in the turning of the age. Yet I have two guests instead of one." The elder spoke. His beard fell out of his hood down to his collarbone where it was wrapped in a cloth band, the wrinkles on his face lit up like ridges on a mountain to the fires that heated the building.

Einar studied the man before him, from what little he'd heard about shouting, he didn't expect for a group of old hermits to be at the start of his journey. "I'm the one answering your summons. This is Lydia, she's my housecarl. and my name is Einar."

"I am master Arngeir. We are the Greybeards, followers of the Way of the Voice. You stand in High Hrothgar, on the slopes of Kynareth's sacred mountain. Here we commune with the voice of the sky, and strive to achieve balance between our inner and outer selves."

"I've heard myself called the Dragonborn many times now. But I don't quite understand what it means."

"He who claims to be Dragonborn; let us see if you truly are. Let us taste of your Voice."

Einar looked at the man in concern. He looked too fragile to use a shout on. After knocking a bandit off the mountain with his last shout he wasn't prepared to break the bones of an innocent man.

"Do not be afraid. Your Shout will not harm us." Master Arngeir reassured. He opened his arms wide and closed his eyes.

Lydia stood back and covered her ears. Einar prepared himself as he had before and let his voice ring throughout the halls. "FUS!"

The man didn't flinch at the force flung at him, but his hood had blown off his head and swayed to the funnel behind him confirming that Einar's voice was just as strong as it had always been. The Elder opened his eyes and adjusted his hood back over his hairless head, he gave a slight smile and bowed to Einar.

"_Dragonborn_. It is you." Master Arngeir intertwined his sleeves and approached Einar. "We have called you here to guide you in your pursuit, just as the Greybeards have sought to guide those of the Dragon Blood that came before you."

"So there are there others like me?" Einar asked.

"You are not the first. There have been many of the Dragon Blood since Akatosh first bestowed that gift upon mortal-kind. Whether you are the only Dragonborn of this age... that is not ours to know. You are the only one that has been revealed thus far. That is all I can say. Regardless, we are honored to welcome a Dragonborn to High Hrothgar. We will do our best to teach you how to use your gift in fulfillment of your destiny"

"There is a purpose behind me being chosen by the Divines then?"

"That is for you to discover. We can show you the way, but not your destination. You have shown that you are Dragonborn. You have the inborn gift. But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? That remains to be seen. Without training, you have already taken the first steps towards projecting your Voice into a _Thu'um_, a _Shout_. Now let us see if you are willing and able to learn. When you Shout, you speak in the language of dragons. Thus, your Dragon Blood gives you an inborn ability to learn Words of Power. All Shouts are made up of three Words of Power. As you master each Word, your Shout will become progressively stronger. Master Einarth will now teach you _Ro_, the second Word in Unrelenting Force. _Ro_ means 'Balance' in the dragon tongue. Combine it with _Fus_—'Force'. Focus your Thu'um more sharply. Their Voices are too powerful for anyone not trained in the Way to withstand. Even a whisper could kill you. So I implore you to step back should you have any doubts about your heritage."

Einar felt certain of himself and didn't back down to Master Einarth when he moved next to Master Arngeir. Master Einarth knelt to the floor cupping his hands by his mouth.

"RO." Though only a whisper, his voice caused tremors throughout the castle making Einar staggered in place.

Upon the ground were glowing red markings, Einar began to notice other symbols like these surrounding the castle, though not shining nearly as bright as the newly made marks. Einar stared into the illuminated etchings. At first a whisper in the back of his mind then like a crack in his ears he heard a voice, reminiscent of a Dragon, shout the word in his mind. The etching on the ground became legible and he read it just as Master Argneir said it was. _Ro._

Master Arngier must have seen the realization in Einar's eyes. "You learn a new word like a master." He said. "You truly do have the gift. But learning a Word of Power is only the first step... you must unlock its meaning through constant practice in order to use it in a Shout. Well, that is how the rest of us learn Shouts. As Dragonborn, you can absorb a slain dragon's life force and knowledge directly, you may know some words already but you have been denying your power up until this point. As part of your initiation, Master Einarth will now allow you to tap into his understanding of Ro."

Master Einarth stared into the eyes of Einar until his eyes rolled back. Einar felt a power pour into his lungs reminding him of when he slew Mirmulnir near Whiterun, the same power that flowed into him through that Dragon's soul.

"Now let us see how quickly you can master your new Thu'um." Arngrier said giving Einar no time to adjust to the power he was infused with. "Use your Unrelenting Force shout to strike the targets as they appear. Master Borri, if you will."

Master Borri cupped his hands to his mouth before letting out his most contained castle shaking Thu'um. "FIIK...LO-SAH!"

The voice gave Einar goosebumps at the power behind it. A phantom of Master Borri stood before Einar. Channeling the strength in his lungs Einar prepared for his own shout. "FUS..." The air tunneled into his lungs rather than form in the air in front of him as it would previously. By pure instinct he let loose the second word of his original shout. "RO!" The wind came with a loud kick that forced the phantom to stumble and fade away.

"Well done. Again." Master Arngeir said. "Master Einarth."

Master Einarth positioned himself the same as Master Borri did and let out his shout. "FIIK...LO-SAH!"

Another phantom sprouted up. Einar repeated his shout with even more confidence, again dispersing the phantom.

"I want you to put all of your power into this last one, to prove that your body has adjusted accordingly." Master Arngrier said. "Master Wulfgar, one last time."

Master Wulfgar repeated his peer's actions. Einar again shouted at the phantom tossing it to the wall before it faded.

"Impressive." Master Arngeir commended. "Your Thu'um is precise. You show great promise, Dragonborn. Having proven yourself to be Dragonborn, we are sworn to assist you in any way we can. Master Einarth will tend to your friend's wounds. Meanwhile, we will perform your next trial in the courtyard. This way."

Einar followed Master Arngeir to the back of the castle He looked back to see Lydia being led to the back of the monastery. The loud bangs from voices in an enclosed area were probably getting to her, and Einar found it best that she stay off to the side as well. The Courtyard was being hammered by the winds of the mountain, snow covered the air and encircled everything, it was an open area with broken columns littered everywhere from the Greybeards practicing their shouts on them, a large gate leading to nothing stood by itself away from the broken columns, burns, giant glaciers, and skid marks covered the ground.

Master Arngeir turned to Einar. "We will now see how you learn a completely new Shout. Master Borri will teach you '_Wuld'_ which means 'Whirlwind.'"

Master Borri focused downward and sent the word of power to etch itself into the gravel, blowing apart the bundles of snow.

"You must hear the word within yourself before you can project it into a Thu'um. Approach Master Borri and he will gift you his knowledge of 'Wuld'."

Einar approached Master Borri. Master Borri bowed his head and a yellow stream of mist was sent into Einar. Images of powerful winds blowing throughout Skyrim filled his mind. Master Arngier continued his instructions as Einar was infused with Master Borri's knowledge.

"Now Master Wulfgar will demonstrate Whirlwind Sprint. Then it will be your turn. Master Borri."

Master Borri headed up next to the isolated gate at the end of the Courtyard and turned to face it "BEX!" The mountain quaked at his heaving voice and the gate flung open, overpowering the winds that kept it shut.

"WULD... NAH-KEST!" Master Wulfgar's shout had enough weight to force Einar backwards. Master Wulfgar's body flew through the winds faster than Einar's eyes could follow, the gate shut just as he seemed to re-materialize across it stopping just before the edge of the mountain.

"Now it is your turn." Master Arngeir beckoned Einar. "Stand next to me. Master Borri will open the gate. Use your Whirlwind Sprint to pass through before it closes."

Einar prepared himself to cross through. Master Borri aimed toward the gate. "BEX!"

Einar took one quick breath and before he knew what had happened his body was flung across the Courtyard clearing the gate just as it shut. When he turned around to face the Greybeards he was hit by his own voice shouting at him as if he had left it behind. "WULD!"

Master Arngeir had a face of pure awe. as Einar walked up to him. "Your quick mastery of a new Thu'um is... astonishing. I'd heard the stories of the abilities of Dragonborn, but to see it for myself..."

"I've Shouted several times before this," Einar said. "It's becoming second nature to me."

"You were given this gift by the gods for a reason. It is up to you to figure out how to best use it. But beware that your skill does not outstrip your wisdom. For a normal man to attempt even one word of the Thu'um takes countless years of meditation and training. Do not take Akatosh's blessing for granted nor attempt to deny it. Your destiny requires you to use your voice. I believe you are now ready for your last trial."

"You have more shouts for me?" Einar asked eagerly.

"The shouts will come to you in time whether through your journey, or with any dragons you slay henceforth. We only needed to make sure that you truly are the Dragonborn. For your last trial, retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav. It's an Ancient Nordic tomb hidden away amidst the swamps of Hjaalmarch, northeast of Morthal. Remain true to the Way of the Voice, and you will return."

"You're sending me away already? There's still so much that I don't understand."

"There is indeed much that we know that you do not. That does not mean that you are ready to understand it. Do not let your easy mastery of the Voice tempt you into arrogance of power that has been the downfall of many Dragonborn before you."

"Surely there's more you can tell me. I met a Dragon and he spoke both with the Thu'um and our language. Why was that?"

"The Dragons of today are the same that have always been. They've learned our language and our actions. The Voice was a gift of the goddess Kynareth, at the dawn of time. She gave the mortals the ability to speak as dragons do. Although this gift has often been misused, the only true use of the Voice is for the worship and glory of the gods."

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Is he Dragonborn?"

Master Arngeir's eyes saddened. "Ulfric Stormcloak is far from Dragonborn. He was a decent student during his time here, what he chose to do with his voice is unsettling. We Greybeards don't participate in politics, but we do judge those who would go against our teaching in the Way of The Voice. Let us not dwell on past mistakes and instead learn from them. You and your companion should stay a while and indulge yourselves in anything inside of the Castle that you may need, whether it be rest, food, or to bathe. High Hrothgar is your home, and we welcome you and any other companions you may find with open arms, whenever."

Contrary to the hospitality Einar's been offered he couldn't help but feel the Greybeards had only called him to confirm that he existed, then immediately send him on an errand he felt they could perform themselves. He climbed back up the stairs to return to Lydia, still uncertain of why he was here.

"Oh, One final word of advice before your journey, Dragonborn." Master Arngeir climbed the steps to meet Einar eye to eye. "You possess the soul of a Dragon, in time past dragons have been creatures of domination and control. Be careful that your Dragon nature does not overcome you and your mortal mind is shared with that of the World Eater. If you remember to use your Voice in service to the purpose of Akatosh, you will remain true to the Way."


	12. Chapter 12: A Raven's Bane

Tacita

"Man those guys are loud up there." Uthgerd whistled at the barrage of clouds scattering in the air. "I guess they found that Dragonborn after all. I'd hate to be standing in front of that guy when he's mad. I'm not just hearing those voices, I'm feeling them."

Tacita stared far off to the mountain as her small party of three walked toward Raven Rock. The first time she heard the voices was unsettling. Disembodied beings shouting into her ears from miles away. All she could think of was Einar, and what it must feel like to have that power. Knowing that she stood so close to somebody so capable made her feel like she missed out on a great opportunity. The sun was drifting away marking the end of the first day until she and Uthgerd could make their attempt to join the Companions. She was getting anxious knowing that she was making a commitment to put her life in danger at all times. People like Uthgerd gave her reassurance that she would never truly be alone, but she wanted to be strong without the help of the people around her as well. She knew Einar would never accept her help if it meant that she would be another person he'd have to protect. It was her goal now, to prove to him that she could be more than just another face in the crowd.

Tacita was getting used to the cold weather of Skyrim, more so now that she was able to wear warmer clothes. The cloak that Uthgerd gave her was large enough to wrap around her body, and had a hood should she need it. It wasn't very thick, and she didn't like the blue color of it since it clashed with her brown jacket. It helped against the weather so Tacita tried to not be bothered too much.

"Keep up Maurice!" Uthgerd shouted to the portly Breton. "I can't protect you if you're way back there!"

Maurice's feet made deep imprints into the mud with each step he took. If he wasn't so clearly exhausted, Tacita would have thought he wanted to get stuck in the mud.

"Truly, the works of Kynareth are too great for a pilgrim such as I." Maurice said with weighted breaths. "Oh, let me... let me rest here ladies. Please."

"Do I need to carry you?" Uthgerd growled.

"Would you? That's very thoughtful of you, shall I jump on your back?"

"Maybe we should rest for him?" Tacita said.

Uthgerd's brows shifted. "'Maybe'?"

"Oh.. Um.. Let's stop to rest for him. Riverwood was quite a way back."

Uthgerd smiled. "You're in luck, Maurice. Your spongy legs can have yet _another_ rest." She threw herself down in the damp grass and sighed. "Do we still have any food? I'd like to hope Maurice hasn't already eaten it all."

Maurice slowly lowered himself underneath a tree, grunting on the way down. "Milady, my hunger cannot be satiated by mere morsels of a meal."

"A full course meal _is_ a morsel in your eyes. Seriously, what kind of Pilgrim is heavier than a suit of armor?"

"I heard Skyrim was cold so I prepared accordingly and put on a natural heat layer."

"Didn't you say you were born in Skyrim?"

"I only meant that this was my birthplace, my family and I moved back to High Rock shortly after."

"I don't know why I expected different answer."

Tacita rummaged through her bag. "We still have plenty of food packed." she said to her two bickering friends. The bag was still stocked heavily with fruit and cooked meat. She handed Uthgerd a small wrap of berries. "We'll save the meat for later tonight. Also I heard berries are good for hiking."

"Oh, fruit, just what I wanted." Uthgerd's face told a story of slight betrayal to the berries. "At least we still have food anyway. What was that woman's name?" Uthgerd thought for a moment while eating the snack handed to her. "Herder?"

"Gerdur." Tacita corrected.

"Right, right. I need to thank her somehow."

"How is your cheek?"

"Well, I may have underestimated that Redguard's punch." Uthgerd gently rubbed at the bandage across her face. "You were right, this is definitely going to scar. Gerdur's bandages will have to do for now. So, we're almost at Orphan Rock, are you liking the bow?"

"It's more comfortable than running towards the danger, but I'm always afraid I'm going to shoot somebody on accident."

"You did good last time we shot it. Rough aim, of course, but more practice will fix that. Just remember you can't always use the bow. You're going to need to pull out that sword at some point. Speaking of, want to practice more?"

"I think we should. Farkas isn't going to let me use a bow in the combat training anyway."

"Come on then."

Tacita untied the shoddy makeshift swords attached to her bag that they bought at The Riverwood Trader, Uthgerd urged her to purchase them rather than have her make attempts at Uthgerd's two-handed sword. She passed one to Uthgerd and the two stood on the road facing each other

"Fight stance." Uthgerd ordered Tacita. "Grip your sword like I taught you; tight enough that you aren't straining your hand, but loose enough you're not stiff."

Tacita followed Uthgerd's direction the best she could. Tacita wasn't wearing any armor, yet Uthgerd still wanted her to feel the sword hitting her. She told her it would make her want to block an attack instinctively if she knew what the pain felt like. Throughout the training session Tacita didn't try attacking Uthgerd, she only focused on how to block what she came at her with. Tacita would often fail to block most of the hits which frustrated her, but she didn't want to give up no matter how many bruises she gained. She imagined Einar fighting the Imperials back in Darkwater Crossing. He looked so natural battling among the soldiers, Tacita kept thinking about him to get her through the pain. Uthgerd tried correcting her each time she was hit, adjusting the way she held the sword and showing her the different directions to block. After many more bruises Uthgerd called it quits.

"Let's stop before you get too beat up to train anymore." Uthgerd said. "You still need to prove to Farkas you can hold your own."

"Sorry." Tacita bowed her head.

"That wasn't too bad though. You blocked more than you did the first time we tried, I'd say you have a minor chance of living in a real fight. You just need a little more confidence, and to not be afraid to fight back."

Uthgerd smiled at Tacita, but she didn't want to smile back. Tacita was more worried that she wouldn't get into the Companions. The impending sense of failure should be a motivator to her, not make her afraid to try. At least that's what she thought it should be like.

"Hey fat man!" Uthgerd shouted. "Are you rested up enough?"

Maurice looked up like he was knocked out of a dream. "Of course milady! Our fantastic pilgrimage can proceed!" Maurice took a while getting to his feet and brush off his clothes.

"What's that on your face?" Uthgerd asked Maurice.

"This?" Maurice asked, his beard covered in crumbs. "Oh, my lady, please. It's just my most recent meal, just as you had. Nothing to be appalled by."

"Your meal? I ate a bunch of berries! When did we agree to have at whatever was in the bag?"

"How can a man such as I keep his energy if I am to be famished!"

"You were famished 10 minutes ago. Nevermind, let's get moving before any more food ends up in the belly of this beast."

The group picked up the camp. Uthgerd handled the bag of food this time, making sure it stayed far away from Maurice's hands. They continued further down the road until a familiar town was off to the right completely burned down and left as a relic on Skyrim's land. A shell of its former self left to remind the inhabitants of Skyrim that they lived in the new age of Dragons.

Uthgerd shook her head. "That's a nasty scene. I haven't been to Helgen in a few years. I didn't expect to never see it standing again. That Dragon really did a number to it. To think those things are running rampant right now."

"The Dragonborn will save us from the Dragons. That's what he was called for." Tacita said.

"You always speak so proper. What part of Skyrim are you from exactly? Please don't tell me Solitude."

Tacita stuttered trying to name a place. She didn't even know what her original home was called, only remembering the snow that usually fell. "I.. I'm from-was from Helgen." Tacita named the first place she could think of, anything to get the conversation away from her past.

"Oh... oh, sorry I didn't mean to bring back any memories." Uthgerd retracted. "I guess I'd want to join the Companions if I were you too. Anything to get your mind off what happened." Uthgerd walked backwards to look at the mountain in the distance. "I guess the Greybeards are done shouting now. The Dragonborn... I don't know if I should be happy or afraid."

"Happy. The Dragonborn is a great guy."

"Oh? And how do you know that?" Uthgerd inched closer to Tacita.

"No reason..." Tacita's felt her face run hotter. "It's a feeling. Just a feeling I have."

"I didn't take you for the celebrity crush type."

Uthgerd's teasing flustered Tacita.

"They're no better than us truly." Uthgerd's tone changed. "Never as great as you think they are."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Everybody is nice when they want something, it's not until after they get what they want that they show their true colors. I wouldn't be helping Danica if I didn't want to join the Companions. You and I are the same in that way. You knew she wanted help, but didn't bother until it gave you quick access to The Companions."

"I guess you're right." Tacita mumbled.

"Hey. That doesn't make us bad people. We still have morals. This is clearly a suicidal task and if it weren't for the attention it could bring us it wouldn't be at the top of our list. It's nice to help people out when you know you can. Some people like to play hero until it kills them. But people like us? We choose our battles wisely."

"Excuse me for intruding on your conversation" Maurice said. "But why is it we aren't headed to the Eldergleam again?"

"To get a dagger called Nettlebane from a Hagraven." Tacita replied. "She's nested on Orphan Rock. The Eldergleam's impenetrable without it."

"Impenetrable?" Maurice's voice cracked.

"Yeah, we're gonna stab it to get its sap out and heal up the Gildergreen in Whiterun!" Uthgerd laughed.

"Oh my, that's quite violent."

"You chose this pilgrimage with us, did you think it would be peaceful?"

"This looks like the place... I think." Tacita said. She pulled out a crudely drawn map of Falkreath Hold to double check.

"Let me see." Uthgerd confirmed where Helgen used to be before she moved her finger around the area they should be searching. "Definitely is. But where's the Hagraven?"

Tacita was weirded out to see that the nest of the Hagraven looked more like a camp for people. Having never laid eyes upon a Hagraven before, she expected to see a flock of birds and one very large one stalking about. Tents and bridges were made to connect three rock formations to each other, hints of magical spell usage scorched the sides of the rocks.

"It looks like it's been cleared out." Tacita said

"Who would be brave enough to take on a camp with a Hagraven?" Uthgerd scoured the field.

The group moved closer to the area, ascending the rock that the camp was settled upon. Bodies of mages were all lined up in front of a pit of fire. Obvious stab wounds covered their chests. Off to the side by an alchemy table was a hideous creature that made Tacita's heart jump when she saw it. It looked like a horrifically deformed old woman with feathers stitched into her body. Tacita was happy she didn't see the thing moving around, it wasn't at all the large bird she expected.

Uthgerd moved over the mage's bodies to saw the head of the Hagraven. "Well. We may not have killed the Hagraven, but at least they left her here for us."

Tacita felt sick at the dangling flesh that had fallen out of the hideous bird-woman's neck.

"You've got the biggest bag, it's all yours." Uthgerd handed the head to Tacita.

Tacita held the head by its hair keeping it as far away from her face as she could. She held her breath and slid the severed head into her bag.

"Absolutely disgusting." Maurice gagged. "Well ladies, no dagger then?"

"Somebody took it. I just wish we-" Uthgerd was interrupted by the howls of a laughing crowd far off in the distance.

"Am I going crazy, or did you hear that?" Maurice asked.

"Sounds like somebody's having a good time." Uthgerd said. "Let's pay our cackling friends a visit."

Tacita followed close behind Uthgerd. The three sifted through the heavy foliage surrounding the area, following the direction of the echoing laughter. The laughing and shouting became clearer the deeper they got into the woods. Horses whinnied, and glass smashed. The group pushed through the final stretch of trees which led them to the source of the laughter; An encampment of Stormcloaks. The place was covered in large tents, and armed soldiers drinking together shouting profanities. Tacita felt like they stumbled into an unruly camp of a rogue organization.

"Well. I do hate to be the bearer of bad news. But I don't think we'll be getting that dagger." Maurice said as he backed away into the trees.

Uthgerd snorted. "No worries. These are Stormcloaks. You just gotta speak their language."

Maurice cleared his throat. "And what language would that be?"

"Pain." Uthgerd cracked her knuckles before walking right into the camp with her head held high. "Hey, any of you guys happen to have killed a Hagraven?"

The Stormcloaks stared at her until one of the men sitting at a makeshift table spoke. "A Hagraven and a few witches. What's its to a milk drinker like you? You got a soft spot for monsters?"

"I'll pretend you didn't call me that. Did you pick up a dagger from one of them or not?"

The largest soldier got up from his seat. He looked shockingly taller standing than he did sitting. He was clearly several heads taller than Uthgerd, but if that bothered her she didn't show it.

"I have the dagger. Is that an issue with you?" The hulking soldier said in his deep voice.

"It won't be if you hand it over." Uthgerd crossed her arms.

"500 Septims."

"I'm not paying you a single coin."

"Then I'm not giving you the dagger."

"Alright, let's make a deal then. You hand over the dagger, and I don't ruin that ugly mug of yours more than it already is."

"You'll regret making an enemy of me."

"Hey boys! Bartram's about to fight!"

The Stormcloaks all gathered around Uthgerd and Bartram. Tacita watched the two size each other up. Uthgerd showed no hint of fear even though she appeared to be severely outmatched. Tacita wasn't expecting the man to fall over like Hooknose did in Whiterun. Since Uthgerd looked confident in her ability to win, Tacita was too.

Uthgerd continued to pace around most likely waiting for Bartram to throw the first punch. With some help from the crowd shouting at him he did just that. Uthgerd seamlessly stepped out of the way and threw her own punch to his stomach. Bartram wasn't fazed at all. Uthgerd got angry at this and landed a few more hits on him, he staggered back but her attacks were barely getting through to him. Bartram grabbed Uthgerd by the neck of her armor and hit her bandaged cheek, blood poured from her face at the open gash. Instead of holding her cheek in pain, Uthgerd became even more angered. She kicked Bartram's shin, crippling his leg and wailed on his face meeting him at the ground where she sat on top of his chest. Tacita thought her onslaught would never cease, but Uthgerd's blows to Bartram's face did eventually come to a bloody end.

"The dagger." Uthgerd's said with an unstable breath. "Give me... the dagger."

A Stormcloak walked up slowly with a crude thorny knife. It looked like it was completely made of stone and the ridges were infused with a mossy texture. The Stormcloak tossed the dagger into Uthgerd's hands.

"You sure you want just that dagger?" The Stormcloak asked. "We could use a woman like you in The Stormcloaks."

Uthgerd shook her head. "If this was the strongest man you've got I'd rather not have to carry you all on my shoulders. Thanks for the fight." Uthgerd got off Bertram and stretched before she held out the dagger to Tacita. "Time to get ourselves a new tree."

Tacita took the blade and Uthgerd started off through the woods again. Tacita hurried behind to get away from the Stormcloaks that began eyeing her.

"Goodness miss Uthgerd!" Maurice shouted as he caught up. "I fear that brute may well be dead!"

"He shouldn't have went for a cheap shot. I got to fight, and we got the Nettlebane. My day couldn't have gone better."

"Are you feeling alright Uthgerd?" Tacita asked. It surprised her that Uthgerd didn't seem to care about what she did to Bartram.

"Of course. They're Stormcloaks, they only respect people who can fight."

"I guess.. Let's just get to the Evergleam now, I don't want to cause anymore trouble."


	13. Chapter 13: Lurking Around an Estate

**Farrell**

Farrell pulled at the collar of his specially made padded leather armor. Tonilia slapped his hand trying to get him to stop ruining her perfectly good work. The old Redguard woman had already been annoying Farrell with her barrage of unkind words. She didn't agree to somebody as young as him being in the Thieves Guild, and she wasn't fond of having to figure out how to make an armor for his size evident by the fact that she complained from the time he arrived back at the Flagon, to the time she got his measurements, all the way to helping him put his armor on.

"Don't you think everybody being in uniform is a bit.. counterproductive for a gang of thieves?" Farrell asked.

Tonilla looked at him with a harsh expression. "I just spent the last day messing with the size of this armor and now you're concerned about us matching?" She scoffed and stormed off to the darkness of the Cistern.

The Thieves all lived directly underneath the Town Square of Riften. The Ragged Flagon was simply a bar that they all hung out around. Farrell was given his own bed to rest in, but there was a lack of privacy since the Thieves all slept in a large open space with no walls. Riften rained often, the sound of the water falling into the Cistern was relaxing. The center would catch all the rain and had built a miniature moat that light would shine down upon making the corners of the room, where all of the beds were set up, very dark. The town could be heard coming alive when first light flickered, which would mark that it was time for the Thieves to start waking up. Farrell found it pretty surprising just how much the citizen's words echoed through the halls. It was easy for thieves to take in every bit of information the denizens would unknowing hand about.

The Cistern reminded Farrell of being in the Orphanage. He stopped by to get a few of his things before he left without saying much about where he would be going. Constance Michel didn't put up much of a fuss since he would have been leaving the Orphanage soon anyway, but she reminded him that there was always a place for work should he ever need it. He wasn't uncomfortable being with the Thieves, but he didn't quite feel at home yet either.

The others gathered around the center of the Cistern to talk about random happenings or their recent missions to each other. Farrell heard them talk about the shouting from the mountain when the sun was still high. The Dragonborn was so close, yet so far. He wondered if he would ever get the chance to meet him or not. Not a single thing crossed his mind about why The Dragonborn would ever come to Riften, but the hope of it happening remained strong in his heart.

Brynjolf came through the darkness. A candle lit his face up as he closed in on Farrell's bedside. "Ah, I see your armor is well fitted, lad. Now you look like a real thief."

"I don't think that's a good thing." Farrell shifted his brow.

"People know what we're about, and with a little effort they will be too afraid to ask questions. it's time you met Mercer Frey."

"Right, the _Guild Leader_. Anything I should know going in?"

"Just one thing; Let him do most of the talking. He's quick to annoy." Brynjolf motioned for Farrell to follow him.

Even though Mercer was just sitting at his desk on the other side of the Cistern, the walk felt like forever. Farrell felt uneasy the closer he got to him, a really bad vibe. Out of everybody here Mercer seemed the nastiest. He was a Breton, but not short like one, a moody expression, unkempt hair and a dark stubble. He had a symbol embroidered onto the shoulder of his armor to mark himself as the leader.

"Mercer? This is the one I was talking about..." Brynjolf's voice trailed through the halls with an awkward pause. "Our new recruit."

Mercer looked up for a moment and eyed Farrell before going back to writing his letter. "This better not be another waste of the Guild's resources, Brynjolf." Mercer folded the letter and pushed it to the side. "Before we continue, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. If you play by the rules, you walk away rich. You break the rules and you lose your share. No debates, no discussions... you do what we say, when we say. Do I make myself clear?"

Farrell nodded. "Yes, sir I understand."

"Good. Then it's time to put your expertise to the test. We've recently had some trouble with a deal we made and I need it dealt with immediately."

"Wait a moment, you're not talking about Goldenglow, are you?" Brynjolf's voice became frantic.

Mercer scoffed. "You claimed this recruit possesses an aptitude for our line of work. If so, let him prove it. Goldenglow Estate is critically important to one of our largest clients. However, the owner has suddenly decided to take matters into his own hands and shut us out. He needs to be taught a lesson. Brynjolf will provide you with the details that will pertain to your mission." Mercer unfolded the letter to continue writing on it.

"Mercer, aren't you forgetting something?" Brynjolf finally said.

"Hmm?" Mercer looked up with actual confusion. "Oh, yes. Since Brynjolf assures me you'll be nothing but a benefit to us. Welcome to the Thieves Guild." He said then shooed them away.

Farrell and Brynjolf walked away from Mercer's desk. Brynjolf gave out a heavy sigh. "That went about as expected. Welcome to the family, lad. I'm expecting you to make us a lot of coin, so don't disappoint me."

"I don't think Mercer likes me."

"He doesn't like anybody who hasn't done a job for him, it's no offense toward you."

"Since Goldenglow is where he wants you it's time to meet your partner for the mission; I didn't expect it to be like this, but Vex will have to show you the ropes. She's already scouted out the place, so the easy part's done."

"Vex? Is that her real name?"

"Nah. Some thieves like to use pseudonyms. Whether its to run from their past or because they think it sounds good. That and sometimes a nickname just sticks."

Farrell and Brynjolf passed by the bar where Farrell had his first meeting with The Thieves Guild. Since moving in with them the intimidation he initially felt had faded, though he didn't know what to see anybody in the guild as. The group at the bar raised their glasses to the two before returning to their conversations. Brynjolf led Farrell to a dark corner of the bar.

"Vex!" Brynjolf called to a tiny woman leaning over the guardrail of the Flagon hanging over the pool water below.

She was standing roughly a foot taller than Farrell, maybe less if she didn't have her boots on. Her shoulder length beige blonde hair, clashed with her Smokey eye shadow. Her face showed the age of a young adult that her tiny body didn't compliment. She gave an annoyed look toward Farrell. He wanted to make a joke about how short she was even for a Breton but he wanted to stay on everybody's good side, for now at least.

"Mercer assigned you a partner for the Goldenglow Estate. I think you two will get along well. Just show him how we do things. Mercer didn't plan a better mission for this. I might have talked the lad's ability up a bit too much."

Vex examined Farrell and compared her height to his. Realizing she was taller she seemed to get a spark of confidence.

Brynjolf chuckled at her. "I'll leave you two to it. Mercer wants this done before the night ends, we're counting on you Vex. Oh. And good luck Farrell." He left back into the Cistern disappearing into the dark.

Farrell began to introduce himself but was stopped by Vex's uncomfortably loud voice.

"Before we begin, I want to make two things perfectly clear. One, I'm the best infiltrator this rathole of a Guild's got, so if you think you're here to replace me, you're dead wrong. And two, you follow my lead and do exactly as I say... no questions, no excuses. Got that?"

"Okay." Farrell shrugged.

Vex calmed down after Farrell's response. "Then we understand each other... good. Now, it's time to get your feet wet and I don't want to waste a lot of time talking about anything but business."

"Okay. I heard you scouted out the Goldenglow Estate."

"Hmph, yeah I did. That wood elf s'wit... he's a lot smarter than I expected. Can you believe that fetcher had more than tripled the guard? I've scouted it more than once and I see more each time I go. It was like he was daring us to come and get him."

Farrell didn't expect to hear s'wit come out of a Breton's mouth, Dunmer words weren't often used outside of Morrowind. "If he's quadrupled the Guard how are we going to get in there?" Farrell asked.

"Well, there's an old sewer tunnel that dumps into the lake on the northwest side of the island. It wasn't guarded when I scoured the place."

"So we're both just going to be sneaking in the estate? Sounds crowded."

"Definitely not. When I asked about you Brynjolf told me that burn under your eye is because you know some magic. Turns out you might be pretty useful. If you use your magic it'll save me from having to make a light."

"That's all I get to do?"

"I said I'm the best infiltrator, you get the easy jobs, I'm not trusting a newbie with sneaking through a heavily guarded manor, learn to sneak outside before coming inside."

"Fine. Just don't get killed in there."

"Nothing is going to happen to me. I'm the best there is. Let's head to the docks. I've got a raft stored there, just needed the go from Mercer. Night's wasting so let's get moving."

Vex led Farrell to the secret entrance of the Thieves Guild. The two piled out onto the cemetery and continued out of Dryside Riften to Plankside where the popular fishing hub of Lake Honrich settled. Farrell didn't see much of Riften from the outside, he was always playing with the children of the orphanage or reading alone elsewhere. The trees came in a variety of reds and yellows and the winds picked up a lot more outside of the city. Even the night didn't stop the dozens of fishermen patiently waiting out for big game to pull in. It was no wonder where Riften's powerful musk came from with the fish lining buckets at every corner. Farrell and Vex pressed on to the beach where Vex hid a small raft underneath the port. She taxi'd it out to the river and hopped in before holding out a hand for Farrell.

After getting in the raft, the lake's water seemed a lot scarier sitting in a barely functioning boat. Farrell felt extremely unstable sitting anywhere, he had a slight fear of fish that came from never being around much water. He thought the boat would flip over at any moment. Vex rowed the shifty boat out to the lake nonchalantly, the fishermen were none the wiser to the two traveling under the port. The open water sent shivers to Farrell and he had to force himself to think of things other than the capsizing of the poorly made raft. He thought about how Riften's lake was purely for fishing, though they didn't usually trade their fish with anybody in Skyrim on account of all rivers leading to the lake being waterfalls. Caravans would rarely come to Riften due to the fear of being robbed. The fish caught on the lake were purely for themselves or for traders passing through Skyrim from Morrowind. It was obvious why Riften's economy was so broken to Farrell, it was an unfriendly city that traded with outsiders. Maven Black-Briar seemed to be the only major power keeping Riften afloat with her mead business. Farrell wondered what the place would be like if Maven took over. Laila Law-Giver made for a kind and just Jarl, but she was completely oblivious to anything happening in Riften.

The boat dipped hard to one side and Farrell broke out from his thoughts quickly grabbing onto the side as a reaction.

Vex tried looking into the dark water. "I think we just hit a big fish. Should be scared off by now."

Her words didn't reassure Farrell much since he was now constantly scouring the water in fear of a massive fish swimming about.

"That's a crazy dagger you have." Vex said. "If you weren't with us I'd have stolen that thing by now for some good coin."

"Thanks..I guess? It was given to me by a Khajiit."

"Khajiits aren't to be trusted. And that's coming from a Thief. That's Daedric make isn't it? You know Daedra spy on people who wield those things right?"

Farrell was annoyed with her chastising him. "That's a myth, there's no proof behind that."

"If you say so, last thing this Guild needs is more trouble."

"Yeah, I've been hearing the Guild's been down on its luck. Any idea why it's fallen off?"

"Old Delvin thinks it's some kind of curse. I think he's crazy. If you want my opinion, I say it's just plain old bad luck. Ever since the Guild's luck turned sour, we haven't had a coin to our name. And when the coin dried up, that's when people started to leave. We had the best of everything down here... the Ratway was a damn palace. Mercer used to be happy about how much money we were throwing into the Guild's Vault, now he just reminds us how little we're putting in there."

"What was it like? Before all the bad luck."

"The Flagon was a city beneath a city. We had our own smith, alchemist—you name it. If we can make a name for ourselves in Skyrim once again, I can almost promise you those merchants would return. Best of all, we'd have enough gold to throw around so we can start living in the lap of luxury again."

"What's so important about the Goldenglow Estate?"

"Maven Black-Briar."

"That's a pretty important name, but what does she have to do with the Estate?"

"Well, it was probably the only thing keeping our head above water. But then Aringoth suddenly stopped sending us money."

"Why would he do that?"

"Probably because Mercer let everybody harass him whenever they wanted. We were supposed to come off as intimidating, not a nuisance. We kept an eye on Goldenglow Estate to make sure the honey kept flowing. If the workers had a dispute, we'd rough them up. If competitors tried to buy honey from Aringoth, we'd steal the shipments. In return, Maven allowed us to extort Aringoth and bring in a huge payout."

"So we're helping Maven's business thrive through fear?"

"We were until Aringoth decided to betray Maven, nobody betrays a Black-Briar. That High-Elf is going to find that out faster than he betrayed her. Now quiet down. These guards are really lazy since there's so many, but don't let their attitude deceive you. These guys are still dangerous."

Having arrived at the islands, Vex rowed the boat up to the main shore as quietly as the lake would allow her. The two stepped out onto the muddy land to pull the boat out of the water. Vex peered through some bushes to check for anybody who might have heard them.

"Okay." Vex said ensuring they were still hidden. "Stick by me until we get to the sewer, that will set you close enough to the beehives to just travel over there. Don't start burning them until I get out of the manor. If they catch me we're both dead. You should be able to see me from up there." Vex pointed at a rocky incline connected to several bridges. "Just don't get caught."

Farrell had to squint to see the ridge that she was pointing at. The guards weren't even paying attention to it. They were indeed lazy. "So I just wait outside until you come out?" He asked.

"Yes, I'll be quicker than you think. I'm a professional remember? Prove to me you can listen to orders and I might teach you a thing or two."

"Alright. ready whenever you are."

The two snuck about the island stopping behind bushes to let guards pass, sometimes having to wait for them to stop talking to each other. Farrell tried copying exactly how Vex was moving to get better at sneaking and always waited for her to beckon him on before crossing a path that could get them caught. Farrell was tense up until they arrived at the entrance to the sewer. Vex paused and pointed at the Beehives that were much closer now and easier to spot.

"Wish me luck." Vex winked then slithered into the sewers.

Farrell's preparation for her return began simple enough. He took a peek over the ridge to see a bunch of guards roaming around the estate. The beehive farm was just a little bit away. He'd have to sneak just a small way to the other side of the island, he was confident he could get there unnoticed. He crouched low by the bushes around the island to get into position. The guards joked about how wimpy Aringoth must be to hire so many mercenaries. They enjoyed the money so they weren't complaining too much, but they definitely saw him as a fool. Farrell found it awkward to agree with the mercenaries, but he knew they weren't wrong. The beehives were left unguarded, most likely over the fear of being stung. _Only the Thieves Guild would be crazy enough to hang out by a bunch of bees_, Farrell thought.

Farrell found the ridge Vex had directed him to earlier. After climbing to the top he found out it was far enough from the beehives that he could lay down without being stung. He had a clear view of both the sewer and the two floored manor. Though he was slightly annoyed that he was pushed aside by Vex, he didn't exactly have any idea just what to do if he was ever in a situation where he needed to defend himself. The Dagger The Khajiit gave him was purely for show and barely served as intimidation. Farrell hoped that even though he was just a kid, the dagger alone would hopefully make people think he was conspiring with Daedra. Usually the red hue would be glowing making him a clear target, but the sheath that came with his freshly made armor removed that chance and thankfully kept him hidden in the dark.

Farrell felt a powerful rumble from underneath his body. He looked westward toward The Throat of the World, assuming the Greybeards were shouting with the Dragonborn once more. His mind drifted to being up there with them, training atop a mountain. He heard the beats in the sky repeatedly thumping. The echoes enhanced in volume as the seconds went by. It was as if the force of their voices were trying to reach out to him. Farrell tried to listen closely for a shout, a whisper, a mumble. Anything to get a feel of what they were saying from so far away. He put his hands to his ears and tried listening closely.

"YOR!"

The booming shout of a heavy voice exploded into Farrell's ears.

"TOOR SHUL!"

Farrell looked up in time to witness a wall of fire hurtling toward him. He was quick to move out of the way to see the Beehive Farm become a massive bonfire within moments. He looked around the sky and locked his eyes on an enormous shadowy beast hovering in the space above him, even though it was a mere silhouette the muscles were obvious to see, bulging from its body.

"Dragon!" The guards of the estate shouted. "Everyone to arm's, now!"

The estate went on high alert to the sight of the beast in the air, it circled around the islands swooping down to penetrate the guards with its talons before tossing them into the lake. Its roaring made Farrell's ears ring, he tried to cup them but that wasn't enough to stop the sound from getting through. The guards paid no mind to Farrell's presence as he rushed through the island for cover. Those that weren't brave enough to face the dragon dived into the lake to get away. The Dragon landed nearby and a few guards were picked up and devoured in a bloody mess. Farrell could see the beast in much more detail now, it's scales were red-orange in color, accented by black stripes. Its teeth glimmered gold, two horns spiraled in a circle and spines covered down its back leading to its forked tail. One of The Dragon's wings looked heavily tattered, but it wasn't slowing it down. the Dragon looked large enough to tear down the estate by merely walking into it. The Dragon stood up straight revealing it's horrific full size and spewed out another breath of fire flinging charred remains of mercenaries all about.

Farrell felt his arm getting pulled and turned to see Vex.

"What are you still doing here?" She shouted. "Unless you like the thought of becoming that things next chew toy, we need to leave!"

The islands were set ablaze. Farrell followed Vex carefully as she shifted around the flames. It was hard to ignore the cries of agony from the guards, whether they were being eaten by the dragon or burned alive Farrell couldn't tell, he couldn't even tell just where Vex was leading him and could only trust her to know the way out. The smoke that filtered the skies would make the dragon wane in and out of existence, it seemed more interested in finding prey to eat than going after any specific individual. Farrell and Vex managed to make it back to where the raft was supposed to be, but the flames had certainly destroyed it since it was nowhere to be found.

Vex turned to Farrell in concern. "I hope you can swim."

Farrell didn't hesitate to jump in the water since he knew how to swim just fine, having hung out in the canals of Riften, and the fear of fish was removed over the fear of the dragon. He swam as hard as his body would allow him, his mind raced thinking that if he looked back the dragon would be swimming behind them. Vex's dark green armor was hard to see, but her hair shined bright enough to know he was close by her. Before he knew it they had arrived at a shoreline nearby Riften. They crawled out of the water trying to catch their breath.

Farrell turned to watch the dragon terrorize the islands further. Even many of Aringoth's guards were resting at the shore no longer a threat to the two thieves. Farrell saw torch lights shining from Riften as citizens began gathering at the docks to watch the destruction from afar. No emotions were directed anywhere, only the crippling shouts of the dragon and flicker of the flames on the water. After a while the reptilian monster flew off into the night sky. Goldenglow Estate and the islands surrounding it were in ruins. The sweet smell of honey latched onto the air.


	14. Chapter 14: Compliance

Vallinya

Vallinya's carriage bumped along the frozen countryside's roads. A far cry from the pavement of Solitude, she disdained traveling outside the lavishness of the Capital City. Skyrim was nothing near the Summer Set Isles, truly any part of Skyrim lacked the culture she was accustomed to. The province was a wasteland covered in an obnoxious amount of snow while the Summerset Isles were filled with lush green fields and beautifully crafted architecture. She was disgusted here.

The horses halted and Melyelte, opened the doors to Vallinya's carriage. Melyelte was an Altmer guard garbed in highly refined yellow tinted armor with a white cape trailing at the back, a closed face helmet left her features in shadow. She took Vallinya's hand as she walked onto the snow powdered ground. The morning air smelled more pleasant than Vallinya anticipated, though this could be attributed to the Nightgate Inn that she stood in front of. The leaves swayed to the icy breeze. Snowflakes fleeted across her scarf and through her hair. The lake nearby had anglers all lined up with their lines cast out. Vallinya adjusted her scarf and flicked the flakes from her long golden hair.

Nightgate Inn was a humble establishment south from the northeastern city of Dawnstar. The Inn was nestled on the outskirts of what could barely be considered a village called Heljarchen, camped off the main road leading from Dawnstar to Windhelm.

Vallinya lifted the skirt of her black robe to step upon the porch of the Inn. Anciarmo, her similarly armored secondary guard opened the door for her. Vallinya kicked the snow from her heeled boots upon entry. The lack of warmth from the tavern wasn't due to the lack of a fire, The Pale was covered in snow, hence the name. The patrons enjoyed their debauchery and sang songs denouncing the Imperials as barmaids passed about drinks and food. No concern was aroused toward the imposing elves that had just walked in. Vallinya was almost certain the music had gotten louder. She took an empty seat at the bar, accompanied by her guards who stood behind her.

A man named Hadring whose hair had completely retreated from the top of his head to become a long scruffy beard, came over to greet his new customers. Though he looked old he had a well toned body "Something I can get for you? We have some of the finest mead you could handle."

"Is ale and mead all you Nords serve?" Vallinya spat. "Is there anything warm in this filth ridden icicle you people call home?"

"Well my apologies, Elf. Perhaps the gentle warmth of tea would better serve a heart such as yours."

Vallinya smiled. "A nice cup of tea would be most fitting."

"Shall I make a brew for your friends as well?"

"That won't be necessary. How about finding a room for us instead?"

"We've only got basic rooms available, and most of those are only two bed."

"I was looking for something more on the VIP side."

"Like I said you're out of luck." Hadring set a fresh brew of tea in front of Vallinya. "Either take the basic room or be on your way."

"I suppose I will accept the accommodations gifted by your establishment." Vallinya removed her gloves to get the full extent of the tea's warmth. She took her time sipping from the cup as not to burn herself before continuing the conversation. "May I have the ledger then? To sign our names, of course."

"That won't be necessary, I always sign my patrons in. I've had enough run ins with the law to know that the crooked type don't sign in truth."

"I believe an exception can be made in this case."

Vallinya grabbed the ledger but Hadring's hand halted her from opening it. She smiled and cupped her hand over his. She channeled her magic to heat up his hand, Hadring had to pull back before he was burned. Vallinya opened the ledger as he recoiled and began reading the names.

"My my, it looks like you have an open spot in the VIP after all. Isn't that lovely. I'll be sure to write my _name_ right... here." Instead of writing her name, she wrote a short message that only read "Comply." and gently slid the book back over to Hadring. He leaned over the book to see what she wrote then looked back up at her. sweat formed at his brow.

"It's nice to know you're safe in comfort." Vallinya took a long sip of her tea. "Whatever is wrong? Your hands are shaking."

Hadring's eyes shifted around the room.

"Do you mind if my friends take a look around? I hear these parts are full of bandits, I wouldn't want to go to sleep without being reassured nobody was _hiding_ anywhere."

"Of course... whatever you need to do you're free to." Hadring pulled out a rag and nervously wiped the countertop.

Vallinya motioned for Anciarmo and Melyelte to begin their search. Anciarmo blocked the exit of the Inn so he could make sure nobody left. Melyelte began kicking through each basic room inside of the inn, the occupied patrons shouted until they realized an Elven Guard was their visitor. The sound of Melyelte violently turning out beds, tossing furniture, and ripping out drawers bellowed through the commons. Hadring winced each time she burst into another room.

"So tell me, what got you into the Inn business?" Vallinya asked.

Another kick sent jolts through Hadring, he struggled to speak to Vallinya. "Been here forever. Place was built by my great grandda. Run by him, then all the way up the line to me."

"That's nice, a family owned inn. A hand-me down company."

Melyelte walked out of the final room to Vallinya. "The basic rooms are empty." She looked behind Hadring. "Anywhere else I should look?"

Vallinya paid attention to where Melyelte's helmeted head pointed and made her request to Hadring. "Do you mind if we check the cellar?"

Hadring's gaze averted. "Whatever you want."

Vallinya motioned for Melyelte to go downstairs behind the innkeep.

"It looks like you get a decent amount of business here." Vallinya mentioned as she looked back at the customers. The lack of music playing and the multitudes of people on edge pleased her.

"We have been. I'm hoping we continue our good fortune." Hadring said.

"I wager time will tell. Good to be thankful for what you're given now. You never know how quickly you can lose something over a few fatal errors."

Melyelte returned from the cellar and walked toward Vallinya to whisper her findings into her ear.

"My guard says the cellar is completely safe." Vallinya took a long sip of her tea. "I have a question you might be interested in Hadring. What do you think about the author Eduardo Corvus?"

Hadring shifted his head as though he were lost. "I don't believe I told you my name. And the author well.." He began to mess with something heavy under the counter. "He's.. a good author I suppose, I haven't read much about him."

"It's just that we noticed a book you have settled under your counter. _Killing - Before You're Killed_. A book for those who fear they may be forced into violence sometime soon. There's nothing wrong with learning to fight, of course. Though, wouldn't you say hiding a warhammer wouldn't be the best choice for quick action?"

Hadring gave a look of defeat. "I considered the size of the weapon would ward off anybody who would try to harm me."

"Intimidation is a good tactic. Just make sure your intimidation is efficient. Now then. The last place to check is the VIP room." She nodded toward Melyelte signaling her to begin the final search.

Hadring rubbed his neck and couldn't stop staring back at the VIP room the closer Melyelte neared it.

"Are you getting annoyed by them checking for me?" Vallinya asked.

"The VIP room is occupied." He responded raising his tone on the last word.

Melyelte opened the door into a pitch black room. Vallinya kept her gaze averted as Melyelte entered the room. A rustling noise alerted Melyelte and she tossed her gauntlet up, the sound of a blade cracking her armor rang through the tavern. The patrons looked back in concern, Vallinya continued drinking her tea as Anciarmo moved to assist his partner in subduing the attacker. After a lengthy struggle, he dragged a bound and gagged man out of the VIP room. Melyelte returned to Vallinya and placed a Katana on the bar.

"What a pleasant surprise!" Vallinya jokingly exclaimed. "Do you know anything about this, Hadring?"

"I know nothing about it, it's just the weapon of a man."

"Not just any weapon. This is an Akaviri Katana. Only members of the Blades carry these weapons."

"He must have stolen it from somewhere. The Blades were killed by your people, Thalmor."

"Fultheim here is a wanted man. The Blades are-" Vallinya stopped herself to give a slight chuckle. "Were— one of the final links to Talos we needed to sever. Some of them got away and fled to Skyrim. Is there any reason our friend here was not marked down in the ledger?"

"He's been here many nights I didn't expect it to matter because I always write in the ledger myself."

"Was he staying here for free?"

"No, he paid his wages." Hadring's voice shifted to a plea. "I swear, I had no idea."

"A likely story, but one I just can't seem to get behind." Vallinya took a final sip of her tea before she got up. "Melyelte, bind our friend Hadring here."

"What? But I did everything you asked!"

Melyelte slammed his face on the counter and bound his arms.

"Oh no, my friend." Vallinya replaced her gloves and adjusted her scarf. "I told you to comply, and not only did you still refuse to tell me where he was, but you were the one harboring him. That's no small offense, especially to the Thalmor. You seem like a Talos worshiper to me, or at least an apologetic. Maybe if you say the right things to the headsman they'll let you go. Then maybe you can be back to taking care of Great Grandda's Inn. Come now, let us be off to Solitude. Lady Elenwen will deal with them accordingly." Vallinya's guards dragged Fultheim and Hadring out of the Nightgate Inn through the snow and to the back of the carriage. "It would seem the drinks are on the house today. Enjoy yourselves while you still have a life to enjoy."


	15. Chapter 15: Priests of Solsthiem

Myrna

The boat swayed and shifted upon the waves of the open sea. Myrna remained still inside the dark storage cabin of the Northern Maiden. The door that lead up to the deck of the ship opened up.

"Are you alright down there?" The Captain of the ship, Gjalund, called down.

Myrna only stared back at him. Her hunger was starting to kick in, the only thing that kept her from ripping into his neck was to remain in her own thoughts. Before she agreed to set sail, Gjalund explained to Myrna that few inhabitants of Skyrim have been crazy enough to step foot onto Solsthiem for some time. He only kept his business running to bring supplies over to Raven Rock since Dunmer often traded with Windhelm or visit relatives.

Gjalund continued trying to speak to her. "There are going to be hard waves coming at us. The Ocean isn't being kind today."

Myrna remained in silence. Gjalund slowly closed the door. Nobody would know that Myrna killed and feasted on the small crew of three men. The opportunity was presented so perfectly, but she knew she would get carried away and be found out. She also didn't quite know how to operate the ship. She sat in the storage cabin and waited for the storm to pass as they sailed.

The sea made it hard for Myrna to hold still in the cabin, her anger began to rise with each shift in gravity. Whatever Hermaeus Mora had planned for her she hoped that it was worth it, even a sliver of information would help. After the violent weather subsided, The captain called down to Myrna once more, a cloth covered his face.

"We've arrived with plenty of time until nightfall!" Gjalund said.

Myrna finally moved from her seating area in the cabin and climbed up to the deck of the boat. The waves crashed against the rocks that lined the shore, not a single caw from a bird, but a harsh wind that came and went. The Dunmer town of Raven Rock was visible, however not something Myrna would call a clear view. Ash shrouded the island of Solstheim. Myrna's mask kept the ash out of her mouth, serving as a convenient accessory that she always wore to block out the sun's rays from touching her face.

"Alright." Gjalund began. "We regularly come back and forth at different hours of the day, we only have one more night run. As long as you're back before then you won't have to wait until morning."

Myrna turned to Gjalund. "I would advise that you wait much longer for this night." She stepped off the boat onto the port. "I have little patience for those who create roadblocks for me."

Myrna didn't stick around for Gjalund to respond. Instead she headed to the town. The ash fluttered in the air, it consumed the frontier of Raven Rock. Cloth masks covered the denizen's faces so they could go about their daily tasks. It was a depressing place completely severed from contact, it resembled a desert made out of volcanic ash. The city was encased in a bulwark with heavily armored guards keeping watch above. Dark Elves claustrophobically stood near each other around the marketplace, It was easy to remain inconspicuous, Myrna searched for an alleyway amidst the buildings that resembled black overgrown seashells rather than homes. After finally finding a secluded place, a portal morphed onto the wall and a tentacle slithered out.

"I have a dozen occupants working through an excavation point just outside of town." Hermaeus Mora began. "Meet with Ralos and he will lead you to the Black Book. Do be careful down there." A tentacle slithered across Myrna's neck. "After you do this final task for me, I will give you what you want." His tentacle tightened for a moment before retracting.

The portal disappeared and Myrna became enlightened to the precise location where she was to meet Ralos. Myrna passed through the crowds of elves through the gates of the bulwark, the guards eyed her as she left the city, though didn't attempt to harass her. She traveled southeast of Raven Rock to a place she immediately knew was called Kolbjorn Barrow, as if she'd been there hundreds of times. A team of excavators were circled around and staring down into the barrow. When Myrna approached one of them they acted as if she didn't exist. Their eyes were solid white, and their skin had become leathery and green, heavy breaths trailed from their mouths.

"You must be Myrna." A man from behind began talking. "About time you got here. We've been waiting far too long for you! I nearly died from the ash storms."

"If you plan to keep talking to me that way, you should know I've killed for smaller reasons than an elf growing impatient with me."

"You certainly have a lot more personality than any of these miners here. Fine then, we've made our relationship clear. I don't like you and you don't like me. My contact in Mournhold needed me to be done with this weeks ago."

"Morrowind capital? Why would you need to come to Solstheim?"

"I've got a financier waiting for me back on the mainland. Sent me here in the interests of obtaining some rare antiquities. The 'Relics of Ahzidal.' But this whole thing became a disaster right quick, let me tell you. When I first got to Kolbjorn, you couldn't even see it. Buried in the ash, like most other things on this blasted island. Dug out a pile of the stuff taller than me just to find the barrow."

"I don't know who Ahzidal is."

"I suppose you wouldn't. He was the first great Nord enchanter, maybe even the first human to master elven methods. His best work was buried with him, though. A set that my patron calls 'the Relics' are supposed to be down in his tomb. Now, they're old, and they're powerful, if Ahzidal was still alive I shudder to think what he could do. A combination like that makes these things pretty valuable to certain people, and I happen to know certain people." Ralis waited for Myrna to respond, though realized she wasn't going to quickly. "Anyway, these miners showed up out of nowhere and started excavating the whole site. I didn't object to any of it of course, since I can't even do excavation, never been good at it. After they were done they just stood in place right there repeatedly whispering your name. I know Solstheim is a strange place but this is nonsense."

"So you're done with the excavation?"

"Oh Absolutely. Ready to go inside whenever you are. Don't know what kind of horrors are down there, so maybe you should go first."

Myrna stepped down into the barrow. The miners around her reacted and rushed ahead of her wielding their pickaxes like weapons. Myrna allowed them to lead instead. Ralis cautiously entered the barrow after Myrna. They began in a tight corridor that opened at the end to a few tombs and a sacrificial table. The place was covered in the slaughtered remains of draugr, the miners weren't bothered by the site and continued further inside.

"When we first finished mining through this place, we were attacked by the Draugr." Ralis began. "Of course I ran from them. The miners came back up after clearing the room. Don't ask me how they did it. As you can see it's true."

Myrna examined the bodies as they walked passed "These are Deathlords."

"Did you say something? I can't tell. My mind seems a bit foggy down here. Definitely the fear."

"This place had powerful Draugr walking around the entrance, you didn't mention anything about that."

"Of course there are, as I said this is the tomb of Ahzidal, the great master, a man to be admired! His followers were grateful of his work!"

Myrna found Ralis's enthusiasm to be a very off putting. She ignored his behavior for now and shifted her mind to what Hermaeus Mora wanted her to find here. If he planned on killing her he would have done it by now, unless he wanted to run her into a trap. If he wanted to test her resolve she had no plans to back down and he would know this. The miners were waiting across a bridge for Myrna to catch up to them. They stood in front of a series of long catacombs. Even more Dead Draugr lied at the depths under the bridge. Myrna was impressed by the strength of the mysterious miners she was following.

"Did you say something?" Ralis asked.

"Nothing out loud." Myrna responded.

"That's odd. Must have been the miners muttering nonsense again."

"They're not saying anything."

"Not saying anything? Who isn't?"

"The miners?"

"Quiet! It's down the hall. Listen close!"

Myrna tried to hear what Ralis heard but couldn't catch anything abnormal. The miners were quiet as usual, the only sounds were of feet stomping against the ground. Ralis sped up past the miners muttering to himself about a voice he was hearing. The miners sped up with him, Myrna continued at her own pace listening for where their footsteps were going. When the sound of moving feet halted Ralis began chanting out loud. His voice echoed through the halls, Myrna turned into a room where Draugr sat slumped over on two separate thrones, two battle axes rested at the side of each.

The gate closed behind Myrna with a loud thud. She lacked the proper fear that would have coursed through the veins of a normal man. She searched around the room for an exit, a metal grate sat in the center of the room leading further down into the Barrow. She could hear the footsteps of the miners trotting below. Wherever they were going, they made sure to leave her behind. She looked up toward the thrones and spotted a lever at the back of the room. When she went to move behind the chairs, the slumped over Draugr raised up and grabbed the weapons beside them. Myrna continued to walk toward the lever unbothered by their sudden revival. The grate slowly pride itself open as the Draugr approached Myrna. She lifted her hand to the ceiling and let out a wave of electricity that scattered across the room. The bolts of lightning covered and singed the Draugr, their decayed bodies dwindled to ashes. The grate clanged, signaling that it had fully opened and Myrna pushed on to find Ralis and the miners.

At the surface of the Barrow Draugr began grunting at the sound of Myrna walking toward them. As she continued to stroll through the catacombs she let out a string of electricity behind her, halting any further movements of the Draugr. She heard a voice in the distance and stopped her flow of magic, the Draugr cried out as they succumbed to her ending stream.

"...time!"

Myrna only caught the last word of the voice over the crackle of her lightning. She neared a door at the end of the catacombs and the chanting became much clearer.

"Master Ahzidal! Awaken for me! Arise once more!" An echoed voice yelled.

Myrna opened the metal door to see Ralis slaying the miners who were knelt down as though they were prepped to be slaughtered. He continued shouting for Ahzidal as he slit each of their throats.

Ralis looked to the ceiling after he killed the final miner. "Ahzidal! The blood runs through the sacrificial altar! Arise my master!" His voice reverberated around the room making him sound much larger than he was.

Ralis's body suddenly ignited in a fiery blaze and he fell to the ground. The barrow trembled as a Dragon Priest exploded out of the burning carcass of Ralis, its mangled robes covered in overgrown scales, a decayed figure that reeked of ages past, a mask was stretched over its head. It roared in a language foreign to Myrna, though she recognized it saying its own name "Ahzidal". When the priest began charging a fire laced spell, she charged her lightning in response and the two clashed together. The ball of fire that Ahzidal shot at her exploded upon impact with her lightning and canceled both of their magic out. Myrna yanked out her ebony blade and ran at Ahzidal but he levitated into the air to avoid her. She charged her own ball of fire and launched it at him attempting to catch his garments ablaze. Ahzidal was quicker than she anticipated and came charging down at her. He knocked her to into the wall and wrapped his skeletal fingers around her neck. He dragged her against the wall to the ceiling. Myrna forced her blade through the chest of Ahzidal's cloak. Her sword passed through the fabric and broke apart a few bones in his rib cage, A loud blast cracked into Myrna's ears and Ahzidal suddenly dropped her. She was stopped in mid air before gently being set down.

Several men stood in the room garbed in brown cloaks with sleeves of golden armor. They wore masks that seemed to be made from broken skulls with tendrils carved into the bottom of them. A barrage of tentacles began sprouting out of the ground and encased Ahzidal. He struggled to release himself in a magical fit, but the cocoon was wrapped too tight. A bright green light flashed inside and the tentacles released. All that remained of Ahzidal was a mask that one of the men picked up, and Myrna's sword.

"Are you Hermaeus Mora's men?" Myrna asked.

"We bend to the will of Lord Miraak."

"Lord who?"

"We have been sent to retrieve the mask of the Dragon Priest Ahzidal. Lord Miraak detests the Dragon Priests of old. For The Dragonborn has no equal."

"The Dragonborn?" Myrna pushed herself to her feet. "If you're following the Dragonborn why did Heramaus Mora assist you just now?"

"You ask many questions, Daughter of Coldharbour. We shall lead you to Lord Miraak's domain where Hermaeus Mora awaits."

The men walked further into the Barrow. Myrna removed her blade from Ahzidal's remains and followed behind the Masked Men. Past the Altar where Ahzidal was summoned, through a series of claustrophobic tunnels they directed Myrna to a very small room hidden deep below, It was shrouded in a green light that emanated from the center where a book on a pedestal sat. The book was covered with a leathery black case, upon the front was a warped image that resembled the portals Hermaeus Mora would come through. One of the masked men opened the book and stepped back. Myra stared into the pages and watched as the symbols and lines of text danced about, she turned the page revealing even more sporadic symbols.

Eventually the symbols leapt off the pages and spun around Myrna. They thickened and morphed into tentacles that wrapped themselves around her body. She felt herself being physically pulled into the book blackness clouded all around her. When she could see again the air around her felt heavy. The skies shifted around in a hazy green. Tendrils spawned far above from the heavens and dangled as they swayed from side to side. Mountains of books stacked in impossible formations, hundreds, thousands of them, not a single book was a copy of the other. Three dragons flew about as though they were playing. Stairs that led to nothing circled the small pillar of land that Myrna stood upon surrounded cloudy emerald colored water.

Multiple portals opened around Myrna and the Masked Men that saved her from the Dragon Priest filed inside. Hermaeus Mora himself materialized in front of her. He was a black mass covered in eyes with tentacles constantly wrapping around each of them, save for the large one in the center that gave an unending gaze. He was more grotesque than Myrna wanted to imagine him.

"I see that you have finally arrived, Myrna Etoile." Mora said. "Welcome to my realm of Oblivion; Apocrypha."

"I'm here. Now give me what I asked for." Myrna demanded

"I will after you give me my gift. I see that you have kept it safe."

Myrna removed the object from her back that she'd been carrying since before Helgen. She handed it to Hermaeus Mora and his extensions unwrapped its casing to reveal an Elder Scroll. The golden sheen of the metal glistened in the many eyes of Hermaeus Mora.

"Such beauty. You fail to disappoint me each time, My Champion. Just as I had foreseen."

"You have your Elder Scroll and I've done everything you've asked. Now your end of the bargain, Daedra."

"Surely you do not wish to join my clan of Cultists? Miraak would be most pleased to have somebody such as you to dawn the mask."

"I didn't come here to be persuaded into this religious cult of yours."

"Of course. You search for your long lost friend." Mora consumed the Elder Scroll inside of his body. "You seek the Daughter Of Harkon. Like a pet to the Volkihar clan, fetching what they tell you to. Your search may come to a sad end should you not hurry."

"Tell me where she is. I'll make sure that I get there in time."

"Several Vampires have discovered where she has rested for all of these years, a profit in her ransom is what they seek. Dimhollow Crypt awaits you in The Pale. Travel through there and you shall find your friend. Fail to reach her in time, and she may die. The Vigilantes of Stendarr bow to no vampire and give chase. Hunters hunting hunters."

"Show me exactly where the Crypt is!"

"You ask for yet another favor? You speak with such passion, ignoring all consequences."

"You're not giving me a choice. You said if I'm late she may die, I'm not about to take that risk. I doubt I'll be able to find this place by searching for it myself."

"Then I expect another favor in return, My Champion."

"Whatever it takes. As long as I can get her home."

A Cultist walked up beside Myrna and presented her with a mask.

"After you find your friend you will place this mask upon your face." Mora said in a slight demand. "It shall give you great strength and resolve."

"You want me to join your cult that bad?" Myrna scoffed.

"The price of information. Do you accept or shall you search The Pale for days as the clock strikes your failures?"

"Fine then. I'll join your cult. As long as you show me where Serana is."

Myrna placed the mask into her bag. She felt Herameous Mora's eyes focus in on her with a stunning intensity. When she looked into his eyes the knowledge of exactly where the Crypt hid flew into her. Multiple hallucinations played through her mind showing her the direction she must go to reach Serana. When she snapped out of her trance she realized she was no longer in Apocrypha and had returned to Ahzidal's tomb. The Black Book was closed and nestled in her hands as if she never entered it. She scanned the room for a moment to make sure she was indeed in reality once more, before she threw the book into her bag. She felt around for the Cultist Mask that Hermaous Mora gave her. She knew the deal she had made was final when her hand scraped upon the bony structure.


End file.
